


jam #11: Beyond the Turf Wars

by PokeNirvash



Series: Kinky Kunoichi [11]
Category: Jam-Orbital, Original Work
Genre: Cyborgs, Fighting, Gen, Giants, Grenades, Minor Character Death, Over-the-Nose (OTN) Masks, Police, Public Housing, Tokyo (City), Urban Blight, Yakuza, Yoyogi, finally some action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 09:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20189833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PokeNirvash/pseuds/PokeNirvash
Summary: April 15th, 2084. After a month of investigation, planning, and impromptu hiatus, Naokuu and Shin have finally set out to the practical no man's land of Yoyogi to rescue Muchise from the clutches of the Kinky Kunoichi. The only things standing in their way: the infamous Shimizu yakuza clan, their attack forces, and if need be, their secret weapon...





	1. Prologue

清  
水

Shimizu

The wooden nameplate bearing the engraved surname of the resident clan hung on the right half of the thick timber frame serving as the entry gate to the abode beyond. The text was positioned vertically, and the sign itself was divided between the bright, almost blinding light of the morning sky and the shadows imposed by whatever objects before it, at any distance, blocked the rays at their current angle. The line separating light from dark was diagonal, starting in the bottom right corner of the first kanji and ending past the upper left corner of the second. The air surrounding the sign, the gate, and even the residence was quiet, the occasional rustle of the wind serving as the sole sound. Too quiet for a regular morning, yet oddly appropriate, based on the clan’s geographical relevance.

Inside the Shimizu’s main household was a room. A large room with 36 permanent tatami mats arranged auspiciously in conformation to the mandatory six mat lengths by six mat lengths dimension. A coffered ceiling of unpainted laminate wood hung over the tatami arrangement, while off-white fusuma bearing illustrations of cherry trees half-bare of their blossoms in the lower corners walled the mats in, thus completing the enclosure. In addition, the rice paper panels above the rear fusuma, blank in their natural state, were adorned with calligraphy, dictating a four-kanji idiom.

金剛不壊

Sturdy and Indestructible

Below the words of vague encouragement was a low-sitting wooden desk, the only piece of furniture within the room. Sitting at the desk was its primary occupant, an older man with dark brown hair that started to fade to grey from the temples downward, and a mustache and goatee that were all grey by comparison. His eyes were brown, his facial structure was broad, and befitting a quinquagenarian such as himself, his body was far from thin, too defined to be considered overweight, and yet not nearly defined enough to truly represent stockiness. He was dressed in the standard formal robes of the country, consisting of a dark blue kimono jacket with a crest on either shoulder, a similarly colored underjacket, a white sash, grey hakama, and white socks. He kneeled at the desk, using a brush-tip pen to fill out one of several sheets from a short stack of paperwork to his right. An even smaller stack of finished documents sat to his left on the cedar desktop, no longer his concern.

This man was the leader of the Shimizu clan, and the mostly empty room in which he spent this morning was his office.

However, like all things, the morning peace was interrupted. In the case of the Shimizu’s leader, his morning documentation was interrupted by the swift opening of one of the fusuma on the far, barren end of the office. Standing in the doorway, calmly in contrast to the speed with which he pushed the screen aside, was the leader of the Shimizu’s attack forces. He was dressed in his usual mauve jacket with thin yellow stripes on the sleeves, this time fully unzipped, a dark red jersey and blue nylon windpants with a white stripe running down either leg.

“Excuse me, sir,” he announced. “Do you have a moment?”

The scratching of Shimizu’s pen tip against his current sheet of paperwork came to a grinding halt at the sound of his subordinate’s voice. He closed his eyes for a moment, processing what the other man had to say. At that moment’s end, he responded, opening his eyes near the finish.

“I do, Komori. What is it you want?”

“Sir!” Komori shouted post-haste as he straightened his posture and stood at attention. “We came to inform you that there are intruders present within our territorial borders.”

The “we” he used was not of the royal variety. Coming in after Komori, appearing from the shadows to his left and stopping at the temporary doorway into the boss’s office, was his companion, the unhinged swordsman yakuza. He also dressed in his usual jacket, a white formal affair that hung open, with a black sweater and dark blue tech fleece pants underneath. His sword was sheathed, but removed from the hip where he typically wore it. He carried it behind him, hands resting on the handle and scabbard, near-equal distances from either end, and the midpoint against his neck. He seemed more relaxed than he had in previous instances, but he wasn’t at peace. In fact, he seemed rather annoyed, his glare piercing right through the lenses of his shades as his frown seemed to gradually widen as time went on.

“Intruders, you say?” Shimizu continued.

“Yes, sir. Five minutes ago, Kigane and I witnessed two men approach Yoyogi from the northern boundary and go through the main entrance. They appeared to be alone, and acted like their visit was an intentional one.”

“I see,” Shimizu mused as he set down his pen. “What was their affiliation?”

“We couldn’t tell, sir.”

“Hmm…” A groan escaped through his closed lips as he pushed his palms against the tatami floor, rising from his seat. “And were they armed?”

“Uhh…” Komori nervously looked off to the side, his anxiety flowing from the frown he attempted to keep cool and composed, but to no luck. “Well, one _was_ carrying a duffel bag with him, but we couldn’t tell what was inside.” At the end, his frown broke, entering an embarrassed grin oozing even more anxiety than before, complete with a brief awkward chuckle.

His companion, meanwhile, stood still in his arriving position for as long as he could, twitching in an attempt to hold back his energy. The secondhand embarrassment of Komori’s vague response to the boss’s question got to him, prompting him to lower his head and growl through gritted teeth, each word from his partner’s lips pushing him ever further to the point where he couldn’t keep quiet any more. And once Komori let out that two-syllable laugh, that apex was reached.

“Augh, what does it even _matter_!?” He stepped forward with his exclamation, his right hand gripping the wrapped handle of his sword and moving it off of his shoulders, thrusting it down. The swing caught Komori off-guard, making him yelp as he scuttled off to the side, back to the edge of the cast-aside fusuma, to avoid the wrath of the sheathed blade. “They’re intruders, right? Let’s just go out and kill ‘em!” He placed his left hand on the end of the scabbard and pulled it back a few inches, exposing the base of his blade, to show he was serious.

“Let’s not be hasty, Kigane.”

“Tch!” Kigane scoffed in frustration, his manic grin fading with a blink of his sunglass-covered eyes into a scowl smaller but just as intense as the one he entered with. With a click, he re-sheathed what little of his sword he exposed for the boss.

Fully on his feet, Shimizu turned and left his desk behind, heading to the right with his hands behind his back. “There is truth in that we, the Shimizu clan, built our reputation on victory over those who oppose our ideals and actions. But even so…”

He stopped, grabbed the edge of the fusuma before him, and pushed it aside, exposing his office to the enclosed veranda circling around its perimeter.

“We do _not_ slaughter indiscriminately.”

“Rrrr…” Kigane growled under his breath, tucking his sword by his side and wearing it the proper way once more. Komori glanced at him as his companion exemplified reluctant restraint, and then faced forward as he carefully stepped into the tatami-laid office with his sneakers on.

“For all _you_ know, those men _could_ be here to do business.”

Shimizu exited his office and onto the veranda, traveling past the extra mats that took up half of its width and onto the newly polished wooden floorboards, numbering seven planks across. He traveled from the space on the floorboards past the open exit fusuma, and towards the corner of the outer hall, where the knee-high railings on either path met, as did the akarishoji shutters serving as walls, the rectangles on each panel flooding the room in a soft, perpetually white light.

“After all, partnership and recruitment are important to the longevity of our strength.” He stopped near the corner and turned slightly to the left, looking out the window at an angled position. “And sometimes, to achieve those necessary connections, our future allies _must_ trespass.”

Just then, he reached over and flipped a switch on one of the pillars cutting through some of the shutters. The white light filtered through the akarishoji intensified for a brief moment before fading completely, the individual panels becoming transparent and then merging into larger panels that were fourteen small panels in height and four in width each, just like the individual shoji they were inspired by. The walls were not akarishoji at all. They were glass, looking out over the clustered neighborhood below as Shimizu’s reflective expression was mirrored within.

“Even I will admit that our town of Yoyogi is a mess. But that very mess is the fruit of my ancestors, having persisted for over fifty years.”

Fitting with the image presented through the glass walls of the false veranda, the Shimizu main residence was located on the uppermost level of the northwest corner of Yoyogi. Surrounded on all sides within the Shimizu’s walled border by five-story structures, the Shimizu abode, a traditional Japanese residence numbering two stories, with a wavy dark blue kawara tile roof complimenting the modern transparent exterior exposed in that moment. The gate marking the entry onto the abode’s territory was on the fifth floor, leading to a staircase ending at the house’s official first floor, the sixth in the context of Yoyogi as a whole. There was little vegetation present, but none was necessary. Not with the view of the town below that Shimizu already had from his current position.

“It is our home, as worthy of protection as all others. We cannot stand idly by as intruders wander _our_ streets, nor can we take action assuming their motives possess inherent hostility.”

As Shimizu resumed his oddly heartfelt mini-speech, Komori and Kigane followed his lead and walked past the fusuma gap he exited from, standing in the veranda hall. They stood in the same positions they had moments ago, with Komori to Kigane’s right and Kigane to Komori’s left. They looked at Shimizu, Kigane with frantically resistant impatience and Komori with the subtlest anticipation to speak. The pause in Shimizu’s words came, and he took that opportunity.

“So what should we do, then?”

“What else? You two will go down and meet them.” With his hands still behind his back, Shimizu turned back, facing directly out the south-facing window. “If they wish to join us, bring them here. If not, escort them out.”

Komori paused for a brief moment, then asked his final question.

“…And if they’re hostile?”

“Then you have my permission.” Shimizu looked back at the two, over his right shoulder.

Kigane grinned wide, snickering under his breath. Both at the response, and Shimizu’s expression. A glare aimed anywhere but his literal visual targets, burning with passion yet grave all the same. That same passion and gravity was imbued in his ultimate address to his two chief underlings, practically guttural in its delivery.

“Eliminate them at _once_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Fusuma are rectangular patterns that can be used as an alternate to sliding doors in Japanese houses.  
2\. Akarishoji is another way of referring to shoji, the sliding shutters of translucent white paper that serve as doors in traditional Japanese homes.  
3\. The enclosed veranda surrounding Shimizu’s office is inspired by the angled gallery of the New Goten building of the Katsura Imperial Villa in Kyoto.  
4\. Kawara tiles are clay tiles used for roofing in traditional Japanese houses.


	2. Act 1

代々木に近づくな

Stay Outta Yoyogi

So said the sign standing at the main entrance to Yoyogi from its northern border, transformed from a friendly greeting to a threatening phrase with nothing more than a couple wooden boards, three to four times as many nails, and a can of red spray paint. The tightly packed buildings on the neighborhood’s edges, leaving barely any room for alleys, let alone proper streets, were enough to render the section of Shinjuku it shared along Japan National Route 20 near-barren, especially on a Saturday morning. But the arched sign at the mouth of the only traversable passage inside Shinjuku-side added to that intimidation. It let those unafraid of the walled town before them that they had reason to be scared for their lives. Of course, that was only a taste of what dangers laid past that warning.

However, it wasn’t as if the outskirts of Yoyogi posed any immediate danger, especially in the quiet morning hours. Just beyond the sign, wide enough for two or even three people to comfortably pass side-by-side, the expansive brightness provided by the rising sun was gone, instead replaced by the shadows put off by surrounding structures, preventing any sunlight from breaking through to the lowest level. A damp air added to the off-putting atmosphere off the daytime darkness, the walls on either side of the alley water-stained to the point of growing mildew. That didn’t even begin to touch upon the alley litter that fell victim to the rainy seasons, many of the thinner pieces sticking to the exposed portions of asphalt.

Windows were prevalent on the buildings from the second floor upwards, but the ground levels lacked that luxury. Many stretches of alley lacked such openings, and what ones were there were more often than not boarded up. Those boarded on the inside had broken glass, while those boarded outside mildewed like the walls. Usable doorways were also sparingly present, those not blocked off like the windows missing their doors and generally dark inside. One occasionally had its door still attached, but it was damaged in some way. Busted in half, top hinge detached, blood splatter against the upper half bending forward post-break. That sort of damage.

The thinner alleys were in no better condition. Branching off the main passage, they ran between buildings, leaving only enough room for one person at a time to squeeze through, typically with the off-chance of getting stuck. No doors, no windows, and typically connections between buildings on the third floor or higher. Lights on the undersides of these connections prevented the sub-alleys from being plunged into total darkness, exposing the bunches of trash bags and larger alley litter that populated them in place of the walkable space underneath to those daring enough to take a look. Problem was, those lights tended to flicker, and in some cases, shut out entirely. As they did, the pointless passage was plunged into further darkness than the relatively visible passages of easier traversal.

Yet for all the further intimidation provided by the inside, from the shadows to the mildew to the unnavigable passages in both width and crowdedness, the sky still hung above the open passages. The blue expanse served two purposes: light for the passage network, saving it from the pitch darkness of the covered sub-alleys, and a reminder for those passing through, yakuza or intruder alike. A reminder that as different and as scary as Yoyogi was, there was still a whole other world outside, one of greater hope.

Despite their knowledge of that reminder, Shin and Naokuu continued onward, inching closer towards the true danger within the walled town.

Shin raised his head and yawned, covering the lower half of his mouth as he let the exhausted breath escape. The moment it finished, he opened his eyes with a blink and lowered his arm, staring forward as he tried to fight off the sleep he lost having to wake up so early.

“Tired already?” Naokuu asked.

“Hmm, sorta. How long have we been walking like this? Ten minutes? Fifteen?”

“More like _five_.”

Shin sighed in annoyance. “Seriously? ‘Cause it feels like we’ve been at this _way_ longer.”

“Strange, I didn’t hear you complaining _this_ bad on the way here.”

“Don’t blame me, blame all these buildings.”

“What, you claustrophobic or something?”

“Wha…!” Shin gasped out a grunt, quickly finding his words. “Uh, _no_!”

“Then why the complaining?”

“Oh, you _know_ why!” Shin looked up, an annoyed glare on his face, holding his right hand out with the palm facing up. “It’s taking us forever to get to the Complex, and it’s because of this damn neighborhood! Just when you think it’s a straight shot, there’s always a twist or a turn or _whatever_!” He balled his open hand into a fist and thrust it down, closing his eyes and scowling wider. “Could they have _killed_ to make the way there less messy?”

Naokuu looked at Shin as he ranted, chuckling in amusement as his teeth clamped down on the end of his half-finished cigarette. “Afraid not.” He turned his head back and looked up. “That ‘messiness’ is a safeguard against unlucky passersby. Anyone shortcutting through or wandering aimlessly’s _bound_ to get lost in this maze. But not _us_. We’re here with _purpose_. No matter how many more turns we take, as long as we keep going south, we’ll reach the Complex, no problem.”

Shin turned to Naokuu and glared at him with slight misgivings. “So you _admit_ to bullshitting the route you planned out.”

Naokuu lowered his head and shifted it to the side a twitch, keeping his grin. “Maybe. The street layout’s not as complicated further in, so it’s more _half_ bullshit than anything else.”

“Riiiiight.”

“Besides, there’s a reason we planned to head out so early. This time of day’s the deadest around here. Messy or not, we’ve got all the time we need to pull this off.”

“You say that like we’re in no rush.”

“We really _aren’t_.” Naokuu turned back from Shin, looking forward as opposed to up. “I mean, seriously. Why rush when our biggest obstacles are asleep anyways?” He held out both hands in a pseudo-shrug.

As they talked, they approached the end of their current stretch of walkway, ending not in a standard dead-end but an open square of greater width, more open to the brightening glow of the morning sky than the labyrinthine alleys on each of the borders. Passageways to elsewhere branched out from the large asphalt space, headed to the left or right, but never straight ahead.

However, just as they reached the border between the square and the foot road there, they were interrupted. The slam of a booted foot against the pavement caught their attention, followed by the several footsteps that followed. The unsheathing of sharp objects, the cocking of weapons, the swinging of other weapons, all happening at once. Shin and Naokuu stopped in their tracks and looked at the individuals they were faced with; Shin with caution and annoyance tinged with fear, complete with him entering a preliminary attack stance, and Naokuu with his persistent grin, not thinking to take any stance at all.

“You said that last one on purpose, didn’t you,” Shin asked rhetorically.

Naokuu grinned wider, showing his teeth, and answered anyways. “Pretty much.”

Standing a couple meters away from them, blocking their way through the square across its entire width, was a group of yakuza, all ranging from their 30s to their early 50s. Their manner of dress was both expected and widely varied. Sweaters, jerseys, jeans, tech fleece running pants, suit jackets, suit pants, even men’s kimonos. More often than not the pairings appropriately matched up, but there was the occasional mix-and-match, like the outermost kimono robe worn over casual clothes, or jeans with a dress shirt. And that spoke nothing of how many wore Hawaiian shirts either in the open or under their jackets. In regards to their appearance, it was also varied. Those with full heads of hair had it fashioned into either a crew-cut or punch perm, though some like the suited man in front pulled it back into a ponytail. Those that had bald or shaved heads, some of them bearing tattoos on the temple, had facial hair to compensate for the lack up top. Their weapons also displayed a great variety. Many had swords, either already drawn or in the act of being drawn. Others had various firearms, resting in their hands if not pointed straight at their target. A couple even wielded baseball bats riddled with bent nails. Heads cocked to the side, eyes glaring, teeth gritted. The suited, ponytailed yakuza in front simply shot a death glare as he held his pistol steady in one hand.

For all their variety, the yakuza of the Shimizu clan shared the same emotion at this development: anger.

Shin and Naokuu simply stood and stared at them, refraining from making any move, positive or negative, against them in that moment. Whether it was out of fear or preparation to attack, the yakuza didn’t care. They stood ready to move the moment they resumed moving forward.

But before either party got that choice, someone else arrived at the seconds-long stand-off from behind the two young men, approaching one step at a time.

“So, then…”

Coming from behind, professionally yet with a casual air, was Komori, and walking a few steps behind him was Kigane. While Komori kept a straight face, Kigane struggled to maintain his, his brow furrowing as his hands buried themselves in his pants pockets.

“You two must be our morning visitors,” Komori continued, taking his left hand and raising it, palm facing outward. Like that, the crowd of yakuza lowered their weapons.

The sound of such was enough confirmation of the action for Shin and Naokuu, who turned around to look at Komori. Shin’s nervousness saw an increase, his eyebrows raising and his mouth opening in subdued yet present fear of what was going to happen next. Naokuu, meanwhile, kept his confident grin as he replied to the attack forces leader’s greeting.

“If that’s what you wanna call us, then sure.” He turned around to face Komori without hesitation. Shin followed, slower and with greater caution.

“Excellent. Let’s cut to the chase. Do you two have any business here in these parts?”

“Hmm, more or less.”

“I see.” Komori nodded, then held out his left hand. “In that case, let’s take you to the boss.”

“Not so fast.”

“Huh?” Komori blinked in reaction to Naokuu’s quick response.

“Our business isn’t with _you_ guys.” He put up his hand and pointed back with his thumb. “We’re just cutting through to our _real_ client, so to speak.”

“Is that so?” Komori raised his hand and snapped his fingers. “Escort these two out. They can just walk _around_ to their destination.”

Though uncalled by name, two yakuza stepped forward from the front of the crowd to Shin and Naokuu’s backs. A bald yakuza in a crème-colored, sleeveless coat lined with fur, showing off his muscular arms, and a tall yakuza with a crew-cut, wearing an unzipped hoodie and blue jeans. The former had a large scabbard attached to his leather belt, while the latter had two oversized gun holsters on either hip. They refrained from drawing, as their task was simply to take the visitors and strongarm them into returning from whence they came.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

The two stopped in their tracks, the crew-cut silently but the bald with a soft gasp. Komori stepped back, his own gasp of surprise coming out as a grunt, while Kigane’s teeth started to gnash in frustration. Shin simply stood by in his cautious defense stance, glancing at Naokuu occasionally as he calmly continued.

“You see, we _have_ to go through to get to where we’re goin’.”

“Oh yeah? And where’s _that_?”

“Where else?” Naokuu twitched his head to the side, then looked up at Komori, one eyebrow raised and his grin wider than before. “The Rabaraki Complex, of course.”

“Rabaraki!?” Komori exclaimed in disbelief. “Bullshit! That place’s nothing but a run-down housing project way past its time! What business could you _possibly_ have there?”

“I’m afraid I can’t share that information,” Naokuu continued, bringing his right hand to the corresponding arm of his sunglasses and gripping it between his thumb, index and middle. That subtle action made Shin, glancing in that moment, worry some. “Not unless you _beat_ it out of me.”

“Wait, are you seriously picking a fight with us?” Komori stepped forward, his teeth gritted as hard as Kigane’s.

“I wouldn’t say _that_,” Naokuu said as he pulled his sunglasses down, away from his face. “It’s more like…”

He raised his head and looked straight at Komori with his red-irised eyes, free of the fear he could have very well been hiding behind them. Which made the words that came out of his mouth next sound anything but pacifistic.

“I’m _peacekeeping_.”

Komori lowered his head and growled. “And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I’ll tell ya what it _means_,” Kigane exclaimed as he marched forward from behind Komori, storming directly to Naokuu. “You’re a cop, _aren’tcha_, asshole!?”

Kigane’s accusation caused a chorus of quiet gasps and whispers to break out among the crowd in back. Some of which were peppered with various spoken phrases. “What?” “He’s a cop?” “No way…” “That’s crazy!”

Even Shin couldn’t help but feel perturbed at the added step towards destruction, wincing some as sweat started to run down the side of his head. But as for Naokuu, he simply closed his eyes and smirked.

“Heh. Looks like you caught me.”

Kigane growled and rushed forward, grabbing Naokuu by the collar of his shirt one-handed and pulling him close. Shin yelped and backed away at the sudden close contact, but Naokuu kept his cool, even as the unhinged yakuza started to yell in his face.

“You’ve got a lotta nerve showin’ yerself here, ya pig!”

“Relax, I’m not gonna arrest you.”

Kigane simply scoffed.

“In fact…” Naokuu’s eyebrows bent down, almost sinisterly. “I’m surprised you haven’t just _killed_ me by now.”

“Hnn?” Kigane’s scowl shrunk to a quizzical pucker that exposed his gritted teeth, and his eyebrows raised in further surprise at Naokuu’s response. Still standing behind him, Komori showed a little surprise of his own, blinking once as the serious demeanor across his face faded for a few moments.

“I know how you yakuza guys work,” Naokuu continued. “Normally you avoid pissing off the police to keep from getting in trouble with them. The families of the early 21st century followed that philosophy, and you poor excuses for street punks are doin’ that all the same.”

As Naokuu was in the beginning throes of his monologue, Kigane’s grip on Naokuu’s T-shirt started to loosen. His feet were still on the ground, so he didn’t drop the moment the grip got loose enough. When his hold was loose enough to shake free, Naokuu stepped back without a moment’s hesitation. Not to where he was right beside Shin, who stood just as shocked at his decision to speak, but a good distance from Kigane. Even as he stepped back, he continued with his words.

“But I’ll let you in on a secret.” He dropped his sunglasses to the ground by his feet and glared forward, his grin slightly wider than before. “Technically, I’m no longer police.”

Kigane took a step back and scoffed through his teeth, leaning forward as he prepared to attack at a moment’s notice, his left hand clenched into a fist while his right was held open. Komori simply stood by, staring at Naokuu with the briefest squint from behind his shades.

“They took my badge, so I might as well be a civilian to you. But don’t get me wrong, badge or no badge, there’s officer blood running through my veins.”

Above the open square in the middle of northern Yoyogi, separate from the crowd behind the intruders, another yakuza slowly walked across the rooftops. The most recent portion of his stroll took him to a five-story building overlooking the moment the alley from the north fed into the square, where Shin and Naokuu stood off against Komori and Kigane. He stopped at the edge of the roof’s walking space, placing one hand on the balcony built atop the parapet, and looked down. He had short cut and slightly messy black hair and the stray beginnings of a mustache and beard, and dressed himself in a black jacket over a white dress shirt without tie and plain black pants. The beginnings of the morning wind ruffled his hair as his gaze centered on one of the four men standing below in the alley.

“So if you kill me, you’re killing a cop. And the police won’t give a damn. Hell, if I was in full uniform, they _still_ wouldn’t give a shit! I’m just that _worthless_ to them!”

His eyes grew wider, slight bags starting to form on the lower lids, and his grin raised to show both sets of teeth. Coupled with the beginnings of hysteria in his voice, he started to come off as more crazed than merely confident. It concerned Shin deeply, who took one step forward as he started to raise his hand up.

“Mister Tanoshiba, what are you…?”

In the meantime, Naokuu spit his cigarette out, the stick flying off to his right as his manic expression faded, returning to a greater confidence as he stared Kigane down with a serious scowl.

“So go ahead. Strike me down!”

Kigane growled through his gritted teeth, his fist twitching as he resisted the overwhelming compulsion to see where Naokuu went with his rant.

“If you haven’t killed a cop before now, now’s your chance!” He exclaimed as he held both arms out to his sides, as if giving up entirely. “Prove to the world you’re not just some blowhard yakuza wannabe!”

Kigane tilted his head to the side in further anger, his lips starting to twitch as a bulging vein formed on the side of his head.

“Draw your blade…”

Shin stood frozen in fear, completely at a loss to what Naokuu was hoping to accomplish with his suicidal spiel. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his head in further tension.

“…slice me open…”

Komori continued to stare with his blank face.

“…and put me out of my misery!”

Just then, he gasped softly, having reached a conclusion.

“JUST DO IT!!” Naokuu shouted at the top of his lungs, his irises beginning to flicker between their normal state and a faint glow in the midst of the speech’s passionate climax.

Kigane brought his head down and growled one last time, pissed beyond belief at what he had to stand and endure, despite all he had in his power to stop it. Even so, he eased up just enough to give a response. “I’d be more than happy,” he said as he took a step forward.

“Kigane, wait!” Komori exclaimed, taking a shorter step and reaching out to his comrade in a futile attempt to make him stop. “Don’t do it!”

As Kigane approached, Naokuu’s wide eyes reverted to a glare, the flicker attributed to the faint red glow fading, leaving only the glow.

Kigane crossed his open right hand over and grabbed the handle of his sheathed sword on his left hip.

“See you in hell…”

Naokuu’s right arm remained in place for another second, but, with a swift jerk, it disappeared.

“…you damn _pig_!!!”

The left tail of Naokuu’s jacket flew back behind him, despite the lack of significant wind in the alley’s end.

Kigane let out a large, passionate scream as he started unsheathing his sword, a battlecry to start and end what would have been a quick and bloody takedown of the cocky former policeman that stood before him.

_Would_ have been.

Bang.

Kigane’s shout was interrupted, reverting only to a squeaky gasp of departing air, through means beyond his control. Just as quick as he rushed forward, he was blown back by the bullet that pierced his forehead, leaving a clean hole in front and what was sure to be a nasty exit wound in the back. The grip on his sword immediately loosened, the blade only two inches out from the scabbard. And yet, his arm continued on the course it would have taken, had he kept holding his sword.

Naokuu stood across from Kigane, staring him down with a greater intensity than he made him think he was capable of. His right hand held his P250, smoking from the barrel as the casing flew from the ejection port. His arm rose up in the seconds following the bullet’s discharge; at first the whole arm, and then just the limb past the elbow.

The few seconds after the shot went by slowly, for all parties involved. Not just Naokuu, who remained as calm as he could be in this deciding moment, and not just Kigane, who tilted backwards as the bullet escaped out the back of his skull, sending an increasingly large splash of blood out from that very wound.

Komori turned his head and gasped again, his eyes and mouth wide open, horrified at what he laid witness to, as reflected in his shades.

Shin gasped as well, though his horror was undercut by a sense of disbelief, as if this outcome was the absolute last thing he was expecting to happen.

All three men left standing stood and watched the ultimate outcome of the two-minute standoff. Kigane’s body, tilting back more and more as the time before impact with the alley floor shrunk, just as fast as his own time had in the past second. With both of his arms held out to his sides, his back inched closer and closer to the ground, and then…

Thud. Impact was made.

********

Fuji groaned softly behind her OTN mask as the peace and quiet of her slumber reached its end. Her eyelids twitched into a clenched-shut position for a brief moment before she opened her eyes, somewhat groggy from lingering reluctance to accept her wakefulness. As she forced herself into further consciousness, she tilted her head upwards as she looked out the hideout window. All that could be seen directly from the eleventh floor was the clear blue sky, making the perfect backdrop for her silhouette. The faint peripheral rays on all sides of the bright rhombus allowed Nawa and Tazuna’s still-sleeping silhouettes equal representation, though Fuji’s sight wasn’t focused on them. It was focused out the window, at the sky and the neighborhood below.

“What was _that_?”

“Hnn… What was _what_?” Tazuna asked as she too woke up, grunting softly as she lifted her upper body off the ground and moved back into a sitting position.

“That noise just now. Sounded like a gunshot.”

“No way… _Here_? _This_ early?”

“It’s possible. I’d just like to know what it _was_.”

“Hm.” Tazuna condescendingly grunted as she turned away from Fuji and joined her in looking out the window. “Probably nothing more than a random misfire.”

“Yeah… that would make sense, wouldn’t it.”

“Oh, you _know_ it would.”

As their conversation continued in the background, Nawa remained in her meditation-like sleeping position. Unlike her subordinates, she remained stationary. A few seconds later, her body stayed put and her eyes remained closed, but her head inched forward, as if she were looking down through her shut eyelids.

“I see. So the storm has arrived.”

********

Back in the alleys of Yoyogi, where the Shimizu clan’s attack forces were gathered, the quiescence that was present before their gathering had returned, though under a different context. The yakuza were speechless, having laid witness to an action that was justifiable in its sheer audacity. The unprecedented death of one of their own.

In the alley feeding into the open square, Kigane’s lifeless body laid for what felt like minutes after the fatal blow to his skull, but in reality was only a few seconds. His head tilted slightly to the left, his sunglasses were pushed up against his face with a peek of his glazed-over orbs visible from the sides, and his head laid in a pool of blood going three to four inches past the top and sides of his cranium, and pushing against his back. His white jacket started to stain with the bright red blood, as did the asphalt alley below him, already stained thick with dirt.

Those closeby Kigane at the moment of his demise stood in the same positions they had in that moment. Shin, his feet spread apart several inches and his hands slightly raised from a relaxed hanging position, surprised. Naokuu, his gun pointed into the air and still smoking from the barrel as he looked down at his kill, indifferent. And Komori, body turned and looking down, absolutely stunned. His face twitched some as a motionless breath of lingering horror escaped through his open mouth.

The first to make any greater move was also Komori, who immediately fell to his knees and gripped the collar of Kigane’s jacket with both hands, the look of hurt readily visible even through the tinted lenses of his glasses.

“Kigane! Dammit, man, you can’t go down like this! Why _here_, why _now_!? Kigane…!”

As he shook his deceased comrade by the jacket, ultimately lowering his head while fighting to hold back tears, Naokuu lowered his firing arm after a moment of watching and sighed. “What a dumbass. Wouldn’t know a bluff if it hit him square in the head.” He switched his gun from one hand to another and returned it to the holster.

After another moment of standing in dumbfounded affright, Shin snapped out of his frozen daze with a glance to Naokuu as he stored his gun away. Knowing his next move, he turned and faced Naokuu, his emotions not yet faded.

“Dammit, Naokuu,” he exclaimed, “What the hell was _that_!?”

“What?” The detective looked at Shin, shrugging one-handed in subdued confusion. “It was in self-defense. You saw him, he was _that_ close to killing me.”

“Only ‘cause you egged him on!”

“And it’s thanks to that we’re still alive. For now, anyways.”

Komori continued mourning Kigane in as withheld a manner as he could, eyes clenched shut and teeth gritted as he sobbed without letting his tears flow, each pained grunt coming out through his technically shut mouth. He paused his moment of grief, though, to look at Naokuu and Shin. Or rather, just Naokuu.

“You _bastard_…”

“Hm?” Naokuu turned to look at Komori.

“Do you realize what you’ve just _done_!?”

“You mean besides killing your friend?”

“Obviously! You’ve made an enemy out of every last person _here_!” He raised his right hand up swiftly, arm bent at the elbow and his fingers pointed up. Only now, the side of his hand faced the crowd before him instead of his palm. “That’s nothing short of a declaration of _war_ against our clan!”

At his signal, the crowd re-drew and re-raised their weapons. Swords both large and small, and bats either as-is or augmented with metal tacks rose up and pointed upwards at a slant in preparation to attack. Likewise, guns of both the pistol and submachine variety were raised, either pointed straight or slanted down. The ponytailed yakuza in front held his pistol in one hand as before, aimed right at Naokuu.

“Oh really?” Naokuu turned to face the crowd, prompting Shin to back up some in a mix of surprise from the earlier bluff and caution from when he first faced the crowd. With a single point of the finger to the crowd, Naokuu shouted out in acceptance of the ‘challenge’ facing him. “In that case, bring it on!”

The ponytailed yakuza narrowed his gaze, his scowl thickening. “With pleasure.”

Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger on his Glock 18 and fired the first bullet. It sped towards Naokuu, but before it could so much as strike him, he swiftly – confidently so – jerked himself out of its path, dashing to the side as the shot continued onward into the alley from which he arrived.

As the bullet whizzed past where he previously stood, Shin put his arms up over his face in defense, on the off-chance that it bullet hit him. It did not. Komori perked up as well, not so much as the shot than at Naokuu’s aversion, looking around to see what direction he ran off towards.

The ponytailed yakuza, meanwhile, knew where Naokuu dodged and where he was headed. For sure, he was coming right for him. With a slight growl of frustration through his likewise frown, he quickly steadied his pistol and fired the next shot, and the one after that, continuing on in the hopes that he’d eventually hit his target.

But Naokuu’s forward charge proved him difficult as a moving target. As if anticipating the fire from what few tells he could identify from his distance and speed, he zigzagged his way through the solitary line of fire. Dodging to the left, dodging to the right, diagonally moving across as a form of dodging, and eventually ducking as he closed the distance between them. The first time he ducked, he kept his head down as he continued his dash, his swinging arms positioning themselves behind his back.

The yakuza fired two more shots after Naokuu’s ducking motion. He was close to firing off a third, but he didn’t get the opportunity to pull the trigger back far enough. He was just beginning to when the black-and-blue blur that was his target rushed up to him from the right. He glanced down at him in surprise, and in that moment of hesitation, it happened. With a swift motion of the arm, his target knocked his Glock out of his hand and into the air. He looked up in greater surprise as it flew, teeth gritted and glare broken. In that same moment, he also felt something blow past him. He responded by resuming his scowl and swiftly turning around to face what entered the crowd at his back. An action that was met with a swift punch to the face, the fist slamming against his right cheek and pushing him back.

Naokuu moved back two steps after delivering the punch, catching his breath for a moment. With his sunglasses, cigarette, and the duffel bag of ammo on his shoulder left behind, to say nothing of his accompaniment into Yoyogi, he was by himself in the crowd of yakuza pointing all manner of appropriate weapons at him. Not that he minded in the slightest. Once he collected himself, he looked forward with a determined glare and an equally expressive grin as the crowd resumed their attack.

The first to rush him was a scrawny yakuza in a slate blue hoodie, shouting loud as he prepared to throw a punch at him with his pair of brass knuckles. Naokuu easily side-stepped the blow and swiftly punched the man in the kidneys, halting his movements and sending him collapsing to the ground. He took no time to watch his third attacker fall, as his attention turned to a fourth coming at him from the opposite side, wearing a loose red shirt and wielding a metal bat. Naokuu pivoted on his left foot and raised his right, kicking the guy in the neck and bringing him down.

Turned around to face the other way, he met his next opponent, a larger yakuza with sunglasses, light facial hair, a yellow shirt and khaki pants. He wielded a pair of nunchaku with wooden handles embedded with multiple metal studs and a longer chain than normal. He shouted as he ran at Naokuu, gripping his weapon as he held it above his head, preparing to bring it down and strangle him with the chain. Mid-scream, Naokuu grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him into the air, turning around and throwing him forward after no more than a second. Rushing at him from behind was yet another yakuza, this one in an unzipped jacket and with a pompadour, holding an odachi sword in a position befitting of impalement. But instead of running Naokuu through from behind as intended, his sword pierced through the back of the yellow-shirt yakuza the intruder threw at him, the tip of the blade poking out of his stomach and forming a blood stain on his shirt. This failed to dissuade the odachi wielder, as he pulled the blade right out and raised it above his head, shouting as he swung it down onto Naokuu. But Naokuu dodged it by stepping to the right, and as the blade kicked up dust from the alley, he quickly spun around and backhand-punched the yakuza in the face, forcing him too to drop his weapon.

But with his back turned once again, another yakuza took the opportunity to attack. Gripping the handle of a large switchblade, a short-haired yakuza in sunglasses, a teal tracksuit and black pants rushed Naokuu with a shout. The noise alerted Naokuu to his would-be assailant, and he turned around to see his crouched dash. And in that moment, he dashed as well, jumping up and stepping on his back. As the yakuza literally under his feet grunted in reaction, he took an extra step before jumping off. A move that confused another yakuza, this one with a shaved head and a red hoodie.

“What the…?” He looked up as Naokuu’s shadow encompassed him.

And then his sneaker came down onto his face, eliciting a grunt of pain as the detective leaped off just as quickly as he landed. Naokuu hung in midair, back facing the ground and traveling backwards. After a second or two of static soaring, he balled his left hand into a fist and pressed his right hand against it simultaneously, then raised both arms above him with his elbow pointed down. He tilted himself so his left side faced the ground and finally, with a shout, he forced himself down.

Crack. His elbow struck the switchblade-wielding yakuza in the back, forcing a choked cry out of him as he felt the impact against his spine. Naokuu’s right hand remained holding his left upon impact, making the elbow drop all the more painful for its victim.

“Rrr… you _bastard_!” The hoodied yakuza Naokuu stepped on, a faint shoeprint adorning his face in the form of reddened skin, reached into one of his hoodie pockets and pulled out a handgun, pointing it at Naokuu.

Naokuu returned the favor, swiftly removing his P250 from its holster and pointing it at him with a cocky grin. He fired four shots, all of them hitting the yakuza in his hoodie-clad chest. Gasping for air at the latter two as blood splashed out of the holes, he collapsed to the ground. Closing his eyes in satisfaction at his hits, Naokuu stood up, the barrel of his gun pointed upwards. He briefly chuckled, after which he opened his eyes to see the remainders of the crowd surrounding him.

“All right, who’s _next_!?” he exclaimed with excitement as he pumped his arm into the air, gun still pointed upwards.

The detective’s cry of continued challenge didn’t amuse the yakuza in the slightest, though they took it with the utmost seriousness regardless. Both those who hadn’t gotten the chance to fight Naokuu yet, and those who survived his earlier attacks and were still able to stand, readied themselves to fight, holding up their swords, bats, guns, knives, and whatever other weapons of choice they had on their person. And though he lacked his pistol, the ponytailed yakuza Naokuu struck out joined them, now bearing a bruise on his right cheek. He clenched his fists and made the call.

“Get him!”

With a cacophony of shouts from all around, the crowd rushed from both sides. First the left, then the right, then the rest of the directions. Naokuu lowered his arm, closed his eyes, and smirked. He made no move, waiting until the last possible moment. The two yakuza closest to him – one to his left, one to his right, both with swords in hand – rushed in preparation to slice into him simultaneously. But as their swords came forward, he jumped up and stretched his legs out, kicking them both in their faces. Less than a second after the dual impact, their swords clashed, and less than a second after that, Naokuu leaped forward and pointed his P250 at his next target, right in front of him. With a wide grin, he fired.

From the outside, the crowd of yakuza was packed so close together, its members itching for a turn at the man in the middle, that it was hard to actually see Naokuu taking them on, one against two maximum for a few seconds at a time. Aside from the occasional weapon taking flight above their heads, the only indication of a fight going on within the crowd were its sounds. Sword clashes, shots fired, the occasional groan of pain, and above all else, the dull thuds of melee impact.

A brief distance from the fight, at the edge of the open courtyard where it happened in full, a duffel bag was gently placed on the ground. The duffel bag of ammo Naokuu left behind at the start of his rush.

“Damn, he’s really going at it out there,” Shin commented, standing upright after letting go of the bag, and then taking two steps forward. As he watched with a calmer but still noticeably pensive expression, he continued speaking to himself. “Guess I should pitch in a little. Can’t risk staying out in the open forever.”

“Good _advice_!”

Shin’s attention was caught by the sudden shout from his right, and as soon as he saw who it came from with a single glance, he gritted his teeth, quickly moving out of the way of the following attack.

A yakuza in a black loose-neck long-sleeved shirt and gray cargo pants with a gold chain hanging around his neck, messy black hair that covered one of his eyes, and a crazed grin swung his sword down against the ground, kicking up dirt into the air and against the duffel bag as Shin leaped back from that very spot, moving closer to the fighting crowd behind him. His brief moment of relief following the dodge didn’t have the chance to manifest, as shortly after his miss, the yakuza pivoted on his feet, kicking up more dirt, and rushed towards Shin again, holding his sword up in an impalement stance. He thrust forward, but just as the sword pierced the stagnant air, Shin dodged again, turning and stepping back to face his would-be assailant.

Unsurprisingly, the yakuza kept coming, turning to face Shin as he swung his sword at him some more, going for standard slashing poses. A swing down from the right, a swing down from the left, a swing straight across from the right, a swing up from the left. With each strike, Shin moved backwards, his arms spread to either side. He opted not to jump back as he moved in more or less a straight line, but his steps to his posterior were large, one of them even staggering during the longest of the lulls between strikes. Before long, the yakuza returned to stabbing at him with the sword, which Shin responded to in the same manner as before. He leaped back and turned, forcing his attacker to turn as well.

“Gah, hold _still_ already!” he complained as he rushed at Shin with multiple stabs to either side, the annoyed boy jerking his head and shoulders to either side and in one instance ducking to dodge the blows. “Sure, your buddy may’ve killed one of our top fighters, if not our _best_, but don’t think that means _you’re_ off the hook!”

He pulled his blade back for a moment and, with a tightened grip on the handle, he thrust it forward once more, this time in the form of a sharp diagonal swing. As before, Shin dodged it, stepping back several times in succession. His back was to the duffel bag he set down, and contrary to his post-dodge motions, he didn’t shake in the slightest.

“It doesn’t matter _what_ the two of you do,” the yakuza continued as he stepped closer to Shin, his sword pointed down for a brief moment. “_We’re_ takin’ you down, right here and now, and that’s _that_!”

With those words, he re-entered his offensive mode, in the form of a stance different from before. He brought his right foot forward and stomped it against the ground, at the same time skidding it across the asphalt such that it pointed to his left instead of straight forward. He brought up his sword, holding it completely horizontal with a firm grip on the hilt. With his feet planted and the last piece of emphasis applied to his words, he quickly leaned forward and pushed the sword in the same direction. As he did, it began to swerve to the right, entering a swinging motion.

That motion lasted for less than a second. All of a sudden, a pair of hands clapped themselves against the yakuza’s blade, stopping its motions as it pressed hard against the folded metal. The hands’ owner had made his move, and following it were words as angry as the stopping clap.

“You think I don’t _know_ that!?”

With a swift jerk of his arms, Shin, with his tight palms-only grip against the metal blade, forced the yakuza’s sword out of his hands. The moment the hilt was yanked away, Shin let go, leaving the odachi to spin around in the air. The yakuza’s astonishment at Shin’s daring move was palpable, but even so, he looked up at his rotating weapon, as if he was amazed that such a thing could possibly happen to begin with.

By the time it rotated enough such that the tip of the blade and its hilt had switched sides on the second full spin, Shin reached up with his left hand and grabbed the latter end, holding on tight.

The yakuza’s shock turned to anger, his teeth gritting and eyebrows angling down in rage. “Give that back!” he screamed, reaching out for Shin with his right arm to force the weapon away by whatever immediate means he could.

Shin’s hand turned, and the blade shifted position. As it did, he swung his arm down, the sword going with it. The yakuza’s glimpse of the boy’s expression in that moment was brief, but the danger he exuded through his steely glare and gritted scowl was eminently clear.

That very same sight of Shin’s face was also the last time he got a look at his arm in its most natural state. The slash down was swift, such that in his anger, he couldn’t hear or feel what had happened. But it happened, and the sight was enough to confirm it. The blood emerging from his wound splashed upwards into the air, in an arc bordering on becoming a mist. Joining that blood was his arm, cut an inch or two diagonally below the elbow.

The sword then dropped to the ground, the blade clinking against the pavement.

“Gyahhhhhhhhhh!!!”

The yakuza screamed in agony as the pain of his partial dismemberment finally hit. His remaining hand grasped what remained past his elbow, raising his head and arm as further demonstration of the toll of his injury. He then fell to his knees, trembling in pain as he looked down in a futile attempt to ignore what transpired. “God… dammit!”

As for Shin, he took off while his opponent was still in the throes of pain, grabbing the duffel bag off the ground upon his start. He jogged along the edge of the square, towards the closest alley leading out, though his eyes weren’t on that exit in the physical sense. After a few breaths, he turned to the crowd and called out into it.

“Hey, Mister Tanoshiba! Let’s go!”

Naokuu was in the middle of a struggle against one of the remaining yakuza in the crowd that still hadn’t been injured or knocked back at least once. His splinter-laden wooden sword, the blade filled with multiple bent nails on either side, both heads and points sticking out, pushed against Naokuu’s gun, which he held with both hands for greater utilization as a makeshift block for the blade. Despite his continued pushing, determined to prevent the bokken from breaking past, Naokuu heard Shin’s call, glancing to the side briefly in acknowledgement, and then responding to let Shin know that he was listening.

“Right!”

In that call, his main objective shifted from battle to retreat, and in that same moment, he quit playing around. His push against his current opponent yakuza’s wooden weapon with his gun intensified, to the point that the force it went forward with pushed him back, leading him to crash into the rest of the crowd. Naokuu immediately holstered his gun and rushed forward, escaping the crowd in the direction of the alley Shin headed for. Of course, his dash there was not without obstacles, in the form of several more yakuza.

One lunged at him from the left, no weapons. He was immediately hit with a backhanded punch to the face. Another lunged at him from the other side, a gun in hand. Naokuu also hit him in the face with a backhanded punch, this time from his now-free right hand. A third came right at him, swinging a sword at his upper chest in a horizontal sweep. He bent back and limboed under the blade, punching the wielder in the abdomen before dashing past. The ring of yakuza round him had thinned out enough over time that after those three attempted attacks, he was already at the edge of the crowd. Two yakuza at that edge tried prevent his exit, but they too were taken out. He hit the yakuza on the left in the face with a right jab, simply knocking him back. In that moment, he quickly turned his attention to the yakuza to his right, using the same hand to backhand punch him against his nose. In doing so, he turned around, backing out of the crowd. With one last look back at the disheveled crowd, he turned back and started running to catch up with Shin.

“After him!” With that call from the ponytailed yakuza, who recovered his pistol and pursued Naokuu through the path he left in his immediate wake, what of the crowd that could still fight, those who were hit during their target’s escape included, cheered in agreement and took pursuit alongside their superior officer.

By the time Naokuu escaped the crowd, Shin had already made it into the alley, having entered a faster dash than he took off with. In time, Naokuu caught up to him, running to his left at a matched speed.

“Way to spoil my fun back there, Shin,” he jokingly commented as he looked at the boy. “I was really getting _into_ fighting those guys!”

“Yes, you’ve made that _very_ clear!” Shin responded, looking back at Naokuu in kind. “But we’ve got bigger things to focus on! So let’s lose these guys already!”

As far as they had gone down the next street, the crowd of yakuza headed by the ponytailed officer still pursued, taking up the entire alley with their width.

“Sure thing!” Naokuu held out his right hand. “Hand me the bag.”

“Right!” Shin followed Naokuu’s instruction and gave him the bag.

“Now duck in that alley!”

“Right!” He was a little more bewildered in his response, but he didn’t question it, running into the tighter alley that branched off to his right. Once in, he backed up to the wall and kept still.

Naokuu, meanwhile, turned around and stopped in the middle of the larger alley, the mouth of the smaller to his side. Shifting the duffel bag to his left hand, he grinned as he faced the yakuza crowd rushing at him in the distance.

“Let’s fire things up,” he quietly quipped as he reached across and pulled back the zipper on the bag. He reached in, immediately finding what he was looking for.

He swiftly pulled his hand out of the bag, grasping his item of choice, and held his arm up in front of his face, as a form of preparation. A second later, he swiftly threw his arm back, preparing to throw the item forward like he was pitching a ball. His eyes widened and his teeth gritted in his moment of readiness, channeling his all into the throw. And then, he finally brought his arm forward and let go of the object, throwing it at the crowd with immense speed. All that was left behind was a safety pin, dangling off his middle finger as it shone in the briefest light piercing through the neighborhood’s oppressive inner walls.

Naokuu’s move was unprecedented enough that the crowd stopped, the ponytailed yakuza going first and the others halting behind him. “What the…?” He questioned, taken aback by the sudden move.

The detective quickly zipped the duffel bag shut and retreated into the alley, leaving the stunned yakuza to their fate.

Speeding at the crowd through the empty alley before them was a torpedo-shaped piece of dark olive cast iron with a metal lever on top, and an unmistakable grooved surface with knobs numbering eight around and five down.

“A grenade! He threw a grenade!” one of the yakuza near the front yelled.

Pressed against the opposite wall of the alley, Naokuu looked back with a confident smirk. Shin, meanwhile, had put his arms up on either side of his head, hands covering his ears.

The sight of the weapon caught the yakuza off-guard, but none were caught moreso than the ponytailed yakuza, the uncharacteristically frightened look on his face increasing the closer it got. Before he could so much as let that fear be known to the others, he steeled himself the best he could with gritted teeth and looked back at the men behind him.

“Everyone, retreat! We have to get out of here before it-hnngh!”

His order was interrupted and reduced to a grunt as the grenade nailed him in his cheek, in the exact same spot as his earlier bruise. He kept his ground after the impact, but turned to look up at the incendiary as it slowly hovered upwards in the air above him. The other yakuza joined him in watching. After what felt like a comfortable amount of time despite it being much shorter, the bottom face of the grenade started to flare up. With that, the fear returned to their faces. The yakuza underlings gasped, while the ponytailed officer let out one last legible cry of reaction.

“Oh _shit_!”

First came the flash, enveloping the yakuza in a bright white light in which their silhouettes were the only indication of their being. It was brief, much briefer than the moments they had left beforehand.

After that came the bang. The explosives inside the grenade erupted, breaking the outer shell and encasing the yakuza within its immediate strike zone in a yellow and orange blast of fire that consumed the width of the alley, blasting the first-floor façades of the buildings on all sides into varying sizes of debris. The windows within the blast radius cracked, and then shattered, followed by the walls around them tearing apart and expelling outward. The height of the cloud of flame was nothing to scoff at either, piercing the five-story ceiling of the alley as it faded into a smokier color. Debris from the floors hit by the blast also flew into the air, the top edges of the adjacent building roofs disintegrating into additional detritus. Against the blue sky, the end result of the grenade stood out in both of its forms, the accompanying eardrum-shattering bang echoing throughout all of Yoyogi, and what neighborhoods laid on its borders.

Closeby the explosion but out of the blast radius, Shin kept his protective position in the alley, holding it for a few seconds after the explosive echo died down. He slowly moved his arms away from his head and opened one eye, glancing at the end result at their distance out the mouth of the narrow passage.

“Phew!” Naokuu exhaled in thrilled relief, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his right forearm as he gazed out of the alley mouth as well. “_That_ should hold ‘em off for sure.”

He lowered his arm and swapped the duffel bag back to it, pulling it through and returning it to his shoulder. While doing so, he looked at Shin and held up his left hand, curling his fingers forward in a gesture that needed no explanation beyond the accompanying words.

“Come on, let’s get moving.” He turned back around and started jogging ahead.

Shin complied with Naokuu’s suggestion, jogging behind him and away from the alley mouth, smoke from the blast wafting by. But he didn’t give him affirmation. Instead, he responded with a comment towards a different, equally recent topic.

“Seriously!? A freaking _grenade_!? How ‘bout next time you _tell_ me you’re bringing one before _using_ it!?”

“My bad!” Naokuu laughed some, taken aback none by Shin’s alarmed response.

As they headed deeper into the alley, narrow enough to force them to run single file instead of side by side, a figure rose from the roof of one of the buildings around the entrance. Having crouched to counter the surprise blast, the man stood upright, turning to look at Naokuu and Shin as they jogged along the passage, forming a longer straightaway than any of the alleys they came across before then. The morning wind, stronger now, ruffled not just his hair to further messiness this time, but also his black jacket. He paid no mind, though. This man, the same man who observed them from rooftop minutes earlier, kept a serious face, his gaze focusing on the same individual he put his attention on in that prior moment.

“Of all the places… What the hell is he doing _here_? Dammit.”

********

“Explain yourself, Komori!” Shimizu shouted angrily into his flip phone as he slammed his hand against his desk. “How could you let this happen!?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Komori replied over his own flip-phone. “We just couldn’t anticipate their actions, that’s all.”

At first, Komori looked down at his feet, then with a blink, he gazed forward, through his shades at the alley down which Shin and Naokuu escaped, moments after the grenade went off. The middle of the stretch between the courtyard and the narrow alley down which they retreated further was devastated. The walls of the buildings on either side, from ground level to the top floors, were torn apart, leaving exposed wood, brick and insulation. Most of the destroyed portions bore scorch marks varying in darkness, while other areas, particularly those on the first floors were on fire. Despite their small size, even after most of the explosive cloud dissipated to smoke, those flames remained persistent in their burning. On the asphalt surface, some portions also scorched and others also on fire, were the crowd, in varying states of survival. Many sat against what walls weren’t destroyed or faintly groaned in pain. A couple others tried to stand, one having succeeded and in the process of limping back as he held onto his non-functional arm. Plenty others, meanwhile, were reduced to corpses, some of which had small fires on them as well.

“They prepared themselves well, well enough to take out nearly half our men.” He winced slightly, inhaling through his gritted teeth with discomfort. “They even killed Kigane, the bastards…”

“All the more reason to eliminate them.”

Komori gasped softly, easing up some.

“Our losses today are _your_ responsibility, Komori. Therefore, it’s _your_ job to solve this intruder problem.”

“But sir, how the hell can I take care of those guys when they can just _blow me up_!?” Komori held out his left hand and gripped the flip-phone with his right, both in increasing distress.

“How else?” Shimizu answered. “Activate our secret weapon.”

Komori perked up at the phrase, though it was in no positive manner. His eyes widened as his mouth opened slightly ajar in brief disbelief at the order he was given. A small bead of sweat ran down the side of his head as he further processed Shimizu’s command.

“Our secret weapon…”

“Is that hesitation I hear?”

“N-No sir. I’ll activate him right away.”

“Hn. See that you _do_.”

Komori pulled the phone away from his ear as Shimizu finished his departing statement. He looked at the screen, bearing Shimizu’s title – 清水親分, or Head Boss Shimizu – and the call duration, 1:15. Shortly after it turned over to 1:16, Komori pressed a button on the phone with a red border, prompting a window to pop up onscreen over the name and counter.

通話終了

CALL ENDED

He then moved his thumb down to the number pad and dialed an eleven-digit number at a rapid pace. Shortly after punching it in, he held the phone to his ear and listened for the dial tone. The other end rang once, followed by the sound of pick-up. Without waiting for a voice, through the speaker, Komori spoke right away.

“Good day to you. This is attack forces leader Udachi Komori, acting under orders from Head Boss Shimizu. The situation is an intrusion. Two males heading from the northern border toward the oasis zone. The objective is termination. Eliminate both targets before further action is made. Special permission to enter oasis zone, granted. Activation code, J-D-U-P-7.”

Komori stood still in the middle of the open courtyard, facing the entrance to the singularly bombed-out alley with his head lowered, as he was at the start of the prior call. The bright blue sky, the faintest hints of clouds starting to pass by, shone down on the square, illuminating it with light unseen throughout the surrounding ground levels. Not only that, but additional weather hit as well. A gust of wind swooped down into the square, blowing against Komori as it ruffled both his hair and his shirt. Even so, he remained still, steadfast in his duty, his responsibility. But as physically firm as he was, he still showed some apprehension. After stating the activation code, he fearfully gulped, then finished the message.

“Now go… Tomauchi.”

Elsewhere, in a place bathed in black throughout its entirety, the recipient of the call heard the remainder of the message, down to the last word, spoken from Komori’s lips with the slightest worry. At that word, though not in explicit reaction to it by itself, something rang to life, the monotonous buzz exploding from the word go into a piercing shriek. And with it, a bright red glow, piercing the darkness in the moment of its activation, yet leaving the identity of its possessor shrouded in continued mystery.


	3. Act 2

Though the moment of its detonation had long since passed, the effects of the explosion sparked by the grenade gifted to Naokuu alongside the ammo for his and Shin’s intrusion of Yoyogi hung over the neighborhood, in the form of a cloud of black smoke wafting over the buildings in the northern sector. Anyone with a vantage point of that specific spot of Yoyogi could see the dark plume rising from the alley in which it originated, especially those in the high-rises on all sides, regardless of their distance. The Rabaraki Complex fit into that specific category to a tee, and the only known residents of the abandoned housing project saw the smoke, as surely as those further away could.

Nawa remained in her seat in those minutes of aftermath, the distant crackling of burning building materials being the only sounds in the distance; no sirens, no smaller explosions, nothing. Tazuna and Fuji, however, had stood from the spots in which they fell asleep the previous evening, and sat in discussion upon rising from their respective slumbers. They stepped forward from those spots, standing in the rhombus of light imposed on the tatami floor before the sole window of their apartment hideout. Their arms spread out a few inches from their body, their feet placed over 20 centimeters from one another, and their eyes wide, they stared at the smoke plume, still in disbelief over what transpired moments ago.

After the long lull of silence they stewed in, as involuntary as it was appropriate, Fuji spoke first.

“Okayyyyy. That _definitely_ wasn’t a misfire.”

“Gee, you _think_?” Tazuna turned to Fuji, a little annoyed.

“Excuse me for speaking the obvious, then,” Fuji replied, shooting Tazuna a half-lidded glare.

“Still…” Tazuna turned back, blinking as she resumed staring out the window. “What do you think that _was_?”

Fuji turned back and looked out the window too, blinking just as Tazuna did. “Could’ve been in-fighting.”

“Either that or someone tried to invade.”

“Whaaaaaat. _This_ early?”

“Hey, it’s not impossible.”

Nawa watched her subordinates banter about the recent events and their theories behind it, her eyes unblinking and her seated stance keeping firm. However, after a few seconds, she closed her eyes and kept them shut. And with it, she quietly muttered behind her mask.

“Here they come…”

********

Shin gasped for breath with every stride he took down the shadowy corridor. For the past several minutes, he and Naokuu had been running without rest, their encounter with danger after initially trying to walk to their destination prompting them to pick up the pace in the second half. The most recent of the alleys they reached was the longest straightaway they’d encountered yet, allowing them to move forward with neither hesitation nor anticipation regarding another corner. Even so, the younger of the two men was starting to tire out, his breaths nowhere near the point of raggedness yet still exhibiting hints of eventual exhaustion.

“How much longer do we have to go?”

“Not long,” Naokuu replied, his experience with jogging distances of the length they traversed allowing him easier breathing compared to his companion. “We’re almost there, I can feel it.” Said feeling came from the brightness of the opening at the end of the alley moving closer and closer the further they ran, blindingly bright in comparison to the dark walls on either side. “Yeah, see? It’s up there, I’m sure of it.”

“I hope you’re right…” Shin said with the faintest hint of doubt, undercut by the inner hope he had sustained for the past few weeks.

Side by side, the two men dashed for the exit, the rectangular pillar of light growing wider with each meter they cleared in the closing stretch of the seemingly endless straightaway. Before long, the white encompassed their vision entirely. They left the darkness of the alley behind, retreating into that hopeful light.

Shin slowed to a stop on the asphalt road circling the border imposed by the cluster of buildings, cracked and sun-dried despite seeing decades of non-use. Standing on the other side of the paved perimeter, forming a rectangular shape, was a flat plane of exposed earth, nothing more than dirt. His knees bent, as if moments away from giving out, but he put his hands on them as he caught his breath, steadily yet as fast as he could muster. It took three breaths before he had the strength to raise his head and open his eyes. Seeing what laid before him, he smiled.

“There it is…”

What he saw was a tall white building, with red channel letters in the uppermost corner, spelling out the name of the establishment.

羅原木コンプレックス

“The Rabaraki Complex…”

His gaze shifted down, below the Complex’s sign and towards the window below it, belonging to one of the corner apartments on the top floor. In there, he saw two figures approaching. First, a twintailed girl in a pastel purple tankini and black gloves. The second, a ponytailed girl in a magenta leotard and scarf. Both with masks covering the lower halves of their faces. Fuji and Tazuna.

Shin gasped at the sight. “Look! There they are! It’s the Kunoichi!”

Naokuu stepped forward as Shin looked up and reacted, his hands off his knees and posture regained. He smirked as he looked up, putting one hand on his hip and tilting his head to the right a tad. “Lucky us.”

Up in the apartment, Fuji reached the window first, looking down at Shin as he stood in the distance. “I don’t believe it, he actually _made_ it all the way here? That’s crazy!”

“That little brat...” Tazuna growled as she joined Fuji by the window, glaring down at Shin. “I’m gonna punish him _extra_-hard for _this_.”

Fuji had no response for Tazuna’s comment there, because her reaction was directed elsewhere. Her calm yet impressed gaze down at Shin suddenly changed into shock and fear, a frightened wail accompanying the shift.

“Wahhhh! Look! Over there!” She pointed just to the left of where Shin was, Tazuna turning to see. “That’s the policeman I told you about!”

Sure enough, Naokuu was standing there, moving his head back from its tilted position and squinting at them. His smirk faded for a moment, a side effect of the narrowing vision.

“No _way_,” Tazuna exclaimed. “That means Mistress was _right_! Those two _were_ working together!”

Fuji had nothing to add to that one either. Instead, she closed her eyes and put her hands on the side of her head, muttering to herself in a gradually increasing panic.

“Oh god, this is _it_, isn’t it? We’re gonna die, we’re all gonna _die_!”

The first chance she got, Tazuna looked down at Fuji’s cowering form with one eyebrow raised. It was odd seeing her teammate in such an uncharacteristic mood, and as stunning as it was, she wasn’t going to stand for it any longer than she had to.

“We don’t stand a chance against-ahh!”

“Snap out of it, Fuji!” Tazuna shouted as she grabbed the twintailed kunoichi’s right wrist and jerked it away from her head, forcing her back into a more normal position. She kept a grip on her wrist as she looked right into her eyes, both standing in front of the paneless window. “This scaredy-cat act isn’t _like_ you! You know better than to be afraid of some measly cop, even if he _did_ shoot at you once!”

Fuji just looked at Tazuna, her eyes still showing the abundance of concern for her life that she expressed earlier. “B-But…”

“No buts! Don’t you remember? We’re ninjas! There’s nothing for us to be afraid of now!”

As Tazuna attempted to talk Fuji back into sanity, Nawa remained seated, closing her eyes as she listened to them. However, after a moment, she opened her eyes, tilting her head to the side as she looked up. No words were spoken, but she could tell that something was about to happen, just as it had the first two times.

Outside, at the perimeter around the Complex property, Naokuu’s grin returned after his brief period of squinting at the kunoichi in the window. “Welp, no time to waste. Let’s go.” With those words, he made his way across the remainder of the asphalt road, and before long, took his first step onto the dirt landscape surrounding their ultimate destination.

The red glow in the darkness grew even brighter, the shrill buzz accompanying it with dogged persistence morphing into a harsh whir.

Not one second after Naokuu set foot on the buffer between Yoyogi and the Rabaraki Complex, the building sitting on the perimeter to his far left suddenly exploded. With the briefest of flashes, the five-story structure’s exposed façade burst apart, multiple pieces of concrete flying out as tan and gray dust followed behind it, masking the entire structure and the fringes of the buildings in its periphery. It was far from fiery, but it was definitely loud and sudden, prompting all witnesses in the immediate area to stop what they were doing and look in the direction of the debris-only blast.

Tazuna turned her head back and looked out the window, somewhat intrigued by the remarkable sound of the bursting building. “Hm? What was that?”

Fuji whimpered, just as fearful now as she was when Naokuu’s presence was all she had to worry over. Nawa’s attention, by comparison, was brief, as she returned to closing her eyes and doing nothing.

Naokuu stopped in his tracks upon hearing the explosion, his expression at the waypoint between annoyance and surprise. His eyes were open with incredulity, but his mouth was turned into a frustrated scowl, one that screamed “What now?” He remained quiet, however, as did Shin, whose face was tinged with only surprise. The two simultaneously turned their heads in the direction of the wrecked structure, waiting with bated breath for confirmation on what sparked their interruption towards reaching the Complex.

The dust cloud hung for another moment, and before long, something emerged from its haze.

Out stepped a man, whose height nearly equaled that of the building that crumbled in order for him to make himself known. In spite of the size difference, his build was unmistakably human, albeit with more robotic details. He was muscular, his tanned and exposed arms the foremost on display. His torso and legs befitted his fit “physique”; the teal tanktop over his chest could have easily been painted on, while the black mimicking pants from below the belt displayed enough joints and crevices between parts to be a certifiably false asset of clothing. His face, which could have easily been as constructed as his body, was locked in a serious expression. A body-conforming visor covered where his eyes would have been, and all that could be detected under them was a single red glow emerging from the left side, whirring with each slow step he took past the building that once was and onto the dirt floor of the Complex property.

“W-What the hell!?” Shin exclaimed, backing up in further shock at the sight of the behemoth. “That is one giant yakuza!”

“Shit,” Naokuu muttered with hindsight. “I forgot all about this guy.”

The two men on the ground weren’t the only ones stunned by the advancing giant. Tazuna and Fuji were just as taken aback by his appearance, leaning out the window to watch his pursuit.

“What the hell is _that_!?” Fuji exclaimed, gripping the bottom edge of the window. “I don’t remember there being anything that _huge_ hiding here!”

“Yeah, no kidding!” Tazuna added. “You’d think we’d have known something like this by now!”

Once again, Nawa kept her place, eyes closed. She chuckled softly at the others’ exclamations and opened her eyes, the amber orbs glancing off to the side in what appeared to be mild amusement.

“My, what an interesting development~.”

Back outside…

“Seriously, Mister Tanoshiba, who _is_ that!?”

“Ryuugo Tomauchi.”

“Tomauchi?” Shin turned to look at Naokuu, who remained staring up at the massive obstacle approaching them.

“He was a small-time thug active during the New ‘70s. He had the bright idea to invade Yoyogi and take on the Shimizu all by himself. Safe to say, he lost the fight…” His eyes narrowed. “…but not before taking over 40 men down with him. Public records list him as deceased, but rumor was, the Shimizu took him and rebuilt him into their ultimate weapon, a reminder of what would happen to anyone who dared to trespass on Shimizu territory.”

Tomauchi walked forward another several steps, and then, he came to a stop. Lined up with the eastern wall of the Complex structure, he planted his feet, which mimicked shoes in their contiguous mechanical forms, against the ground, cracking some of the dirt and sending clouds drifting into the air. He stared forward, the whirring in his glowing eye having ceased, but another glow from the other side joining it.

“That… they’d be turned into cyborgs?”

“That they were as good as _dead_.”

Tomauchi’s vision, colored red by his eyes and tinted slightly dark from the visor, caught Naokuu and Shin in the lower portion of the overall field. The right half zoomed in, focusing on the two as they kept looking and conversing, their voices muted out entirely. Circular sensors blipped into his vision and placed themselves over either man’s face. After a moment, an X appeared within each circle, both a bright red.

“TARGETS IDENTIFIED,” he stated in a monotone droll possessing a slight mechanical hum. “PREPARING IMPACT ROUNDS.”

Following his muttered self-command, he raised his right arm, hand balled into a fist as it was during his entrance, and pointed it down at the two men.

Fuji whimpered again as she backed away from the window, putting her hands up to her chest. “What’s he doing _now_?”

“Whatever it is,” Tazuna said, also moving into the apartment space, “it isn’t meant for _us_.”

Tomauchi’s right “eye” glowed brighter, the whirring noise returning. Just then, a change occurred in his arm. Holes started forming down its length, single-file from where his shoulder connected to the limb to where the forearm met the hand. Less than a second after each individual hole formed, a black cylinder split in two by a light blue line running the circumference popped out of the hole. Ten cylinders emerged in total, each one about as large as a refrigerator. After the tenth cylinder emerged, it suddenly shrunk, the top half of the black cylinder disappearing and finding itself replaced by the transparent top half of its outer shell. The moment it did, the portions of his index and middle fingers between the first and second knuckles popped open. Nothing could be observed inside this opening but blackness, but before long, blue streams of lightning started to emerge from the hole, as if what was hidden inside was charging up…

Shin took another step back, his concern starting to worsen. “What’s he doing now?”

But Naokuu couldn’t keep a straight face as he saw the wild, continuously moving sparks. His eyes widened, bags starting to form, and his mouth opened, the top and bottom halves of his teeth pulling apart in emphasis, all while a cool trembling sensation went straight down his spine. He could sense what was about to happen, and he knew something had to be done in the few seconds before it did.

“Oh crap, this is bad!” He turned and grabbed Shin by the wrist, rushing back towards the alley from which they emerged. “Come on!”

Shin yelped as he was grabbed, attempting a protest. “Hey, what are you–”

“Just _run_!”

The left glow behind Tomauchi’s visor faded, but the right continued to glow, the whirring only intensifying.

“Damn!” Tazuna muttered, turning away from the window. “Get down!” She grabbed onto Fuji, her left hand on her shoulder and her right arm across her chest, and pushed her to the ground, the twintailed kunoichi yelping in reaction.

With the two men in his sight retreating, and two of the three women within the vicinity but not his focus trying to protect themselves, Tomauchi spoke the final preparation. Another self-order.

“FIRE.”

The hole in his fingers flashed, as blue as the lightning that charged it up. With a loud metallic thump, something shot out of the opening at great speed. It was the black half-cylinder that disappeared from its transparent casing a moment earlier. At first glance at its raging speed, it appeared to be flat on both ends, but the front end formed a tip with the aid of an extremely gentle radial slope, the point piercing through the air and dispelling it off to either side as artificial wind. After escaping Tomauchi’s internal launcher, as it sped past the multiple buildings to its right, the cylinder started to descend; at first gradually, but going down faster the further it went along, all while continuing to point straight forward with no deviations. It eventually reached the ground, at the border between dirt and asphalt where the Naokuu and Shin just were. As it made contact, it ripped up both surfaces, kicking up debris of both kinds on either side as it continued on its straight trajectory. Plowing through the two materials, its descent having slowed not to steadiness but an even slower dip, the bottom surface digging further down with each several meters traveled. But before long, it reached its roadblock.

The building in front of it.

The forceful impact of the round against the first-floor façade eclipsed the size of the its front end. A large crash three stories high accompanied the strike, sending up another cloud of dust in either direction of the point of impact. Most of it was dust, anyways, as some dark gray smoke mixed in with the tan brown mass. After observing the impact in his steadied position for a few seconds, Tomauchi simply lowered his right arm as he watched the dust and smoke billow out in all directions facing away from the façade his impact round destroyed.

As the sounds of the building’s damage crumbling to the ground died down outside the Complex, Tazuna’s eyes, closed in the moment of Tomauchi’s warning shot, opened again. She laid down on top of Fuji, their bodies pressing together following the former’s tackle into the shadows of the inner apartment. Their breasts in particular shared close contact, squished against one another in the seconds that the kunoichi on top protected the one on the bottom from whatever recoil of the oversized bullet substitute passing by reached them, as high up as they were from the line of fire. But logical matters like those were of no matter in its aftermath, at least not immediately. Moving her arms off of Fuji and pinning them against the tatami on either side of the girl, Tazuna lifted herself off of Fuji, her breasts bouncing as they resumed their regular shape.

“Good, it stopped,” she mused as she turned her head to look back at the window. “For _now_, at least.”

Fuji groaned, her head tilted back and a blush creeping up from under mask as Tazuna moved off of her some. Nawa, as she had the past several minutes, remained quiet and unmoving.

Meanwhile, in the alley leading to the complex property, Naokuu and Shin laid on the asphalt past the exit point, once again in the shadows instead of the sun. The detective laid closer to the end of the passage, a few feet between them both, while Shin laid a little farther ahead. Both laid with their stomachs to the ground, heads tilted as they caught their breath in a series of soft sighs.

Naokuu recollected himself first, turning to look over at Shin. “Man, that was a close one…”

Shin turned his own head, catching his breath for another second before replying. “Sure was… Just think, we could’ve _died_ if that hit us.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Naokuu said as he pushed himself off the ground, getting back on his feet in a crouching position before slowly standing upright. To his back, the Rabaraki Complex was no longer visible through the window the end of the alley provided. Not as the result of the bright sunlight, but the brown dust cloud drifting away from the impact round’s final destination.

“I’m serious, Mister Tanoshiba. That Tomauchi guy’s pretty powerful. I don’t think there’s any way we could get past him, not with what we have.”

After coming to a full stand, albeit with a slight slouch, Naokuu turned around and faced the dust-obscured exit from the alley, catching his breath some more. His sighs were longer, both in length and apart from one another. He inhaled once more, but instead of letting out an uncharacteristic breath of air…

“You’ve got it wrong. Believe it or not, there’s _one_ thing that _might_ just work in our favor.”

“Really?” Shin asked with slight apprehension, lifting himself up onto his knees and turning his body some to look back at Naokuu. “What is it?”

Naokuu stood facing the dissipating dust cloud for a moment, as if with resolve. He waited another moment after Shin spoke, and then…

“You’re looking at it. I’m gonna head back out and face Tomauchi one-on-one, using all I can to keep his eyes on _me_. With any luck, it _should_ attract the Kunoichi’s attention too.”

In the empty buffer around the Complex, Tomauchi stood for another moment longer in both silence and stillness. By the time the moment was up, the individual red glows under his visor, which had faded following the first shot, lit up once more, much milder compared to when attacking was his prime objective, with minimal harshness accompanying the inevitable noise. He took one step forward with his right foot, bringing it down onto another portion of untrodden dirt. The immediate surface around the stepping point shook, a cloud of dust and larger particulates kicking up into the air, and though far enough away, the Rabaraki Complex to his immediate left felt some of the artificially produced tremors as well.

“While he’s distracted, _you_ run around to the back of the Complex and head up to the Kunoichi’s hideout from there. Go in, grab Muchise, and _go_. Don’t even _bother_ waiting for me.”

Shin couldn’t believe what Naokuu was telling him. His apprehension was as clear as purified water, though whatever fears he had about Naokuu’s plan for _him_ were dwarfed by the shock he felt inside at Naokuu’s plan for himself. His eyes too awake to close, his lip raised enough to emulate his jaw dropping open without his mandible having to do any heavy work, his body frozen after raising itself into a standing position. It was surefire astonishment, but he didn’t dare question whether he heard those words right. He _knew_ the detective wasn’t misspeaking. Even so, he couldn’t help but seek confirmation that he _meant_ what he said.

“You sure about that, Mister Tanoshiba? ‘Cause it sounds like you’re telling me to just _abandon_ you.”

“That’s not it at all,” Naokuu said, his response immediate enough yet too matter-of-fact to be out of denial. He then smirked. “I won’t be abandoned, not when it’s _your_ goal we’re fighting to accomplish.”

“W-What?” Shin blinked, his disbelief lessened yet more persistent than ever.

“You heard me right, Shin. Like I said before, Muchise’s not my end goal.” Naokuu raised his head, looking up at the thinning dust cloud as Tomauchi’s footsteps came into earshot. “_My_ end goal’s ridding this country of crimes like the Kunoichi’s.” His eyes narrowed and smile widened, matching the substitution of confidence with solemnity in his voice. “I’ll admit, it’s more a pipe dream than anything else. Hell, just bringing the Kunoichi to justice _alone_ is a tall order.”

Following their peripheral defense against the impact round, Tazuna and Fuji retreated further into the shadows of the apartment, settling down in the corner of the main space formed by the wall against where Nawa sat and the shoji door leading into the back room. Fuji held close to Tazuna, her gloved hands resting on her companion’s forearm that rested atop her knee while her knees themselves lightly pressed against the tatami floors, and looked back with a slightly greater caution. Unsurprisingly, Nawa remained seated, but turned to watch as her subordinates did as they too heard Tomauchi’s footsteps come closer.

Within seconds, Tomauchi moved past the western half of the Complex, stopping at the far right side under the red sign and the Kunoichi’s apartment hideout. After another lull of a few seconds, he turned his head in the direction of the alley into which his targets retreated.

“But compared to either one, Muchise’s within our reach. She’s within _your_ reach. So go in there and save her, just as you promised her old man. And do so knowing I gave you the opportunity to make good on that promise.” Naokuu looked back down, his smile faded and his confident glare having returned.

“But you’ll _die_ out there, Naokuu! Don’t you _get_ that!?”

Naokuu closed his eyes and shrugged with a small smile of unsure emotion. “Of course I do, Shin.” He opened them again. “But whatever my fate is, as long as you hold up _your_ end of the bargain, I’ll have no regrets.”

Shin tensed up some at Naokuu’s accepting words, trembling as his emotions pushed at the seams.

“Making a difference as miniscule as this is the least I could do as the one of the only decent cops in this corrupt generation. And if doing that means becoming a martyr for my cause…”

Tears started to well in the corners of Shin’s eyes, growing until they met in the middle and lined his lower eyelid entirely. And then they started to flow down from either corner, the tiny whimpers of emotion escaping with his breaths much more pronounced.

“…then so be it.”

Naokuu lifted his left foot off the ground and brought it forward, following up with the right. He started marching from the place he stood in the alley towards the exit Tomauchi arrived in front of, his gun in his holster and the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He neglected to take one last look back at Shin, but even so, he had a few more words.

“When I say the word, start running. You know what to do from there.”

Shin looked back at Naokuu as he walked away, the tears slowly flowing down his cheeks as he kept himself from bawling at his ultimate decision. He sniffled some, hesitating for just a moment. Then, with a sharp inhalation through his otherwise clear nose, he slammed his right hand, balled into a fist, against his chest in a salute as he called out.

“Yes, sir!”

Naokuu grunted, letting one last, somber grin slip by. It was at that point he made it past the mouth of the alley and back onto the asphalt perimeter. The pavement was now half of what it was, the side immediately adjacent to the Complex property line having been stripped away, leaving only debris and a shallow chasm between it and the landscape of dirt that separated him further from the giant cybernetically-enhanced obstacle looming down over him. Upon reaching the asphalt, Naokuu spread his legs apart and looked up at the behemoth, his hands balled into fists as he shot him the most unabashed of glares.

“Hey,” he announced sharply, raising his voice without screaming. “Tomauchi, right? I’ve got business in that building back there, and I’d like to get it over with as soon as possible.” He moved his arms closer to his sides and cocked his head to the left some. “So you gonna move and let me in or _what_?”

Tomauchi simply stared at Naokuu for a few seconds. He processed his request, and answered in kind.

“THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE.”

Naokuu couldn’t help but smile wide at the cyborg’s words.

“WHATEVER BUSINESS YOU HAVE PALES IN COMPARISON TO YOUR CRIMES AGAINST THE SHIMIZU CLAN. FOR THAT, YOU SHALL PERISH.” He raised his arm and pointed it at Naokuu, his right eye starting to glow brighter, complete with the harsh whir.

“Pfft!”

Naokuu’s scoff broke Tomauchi’s serious demeanor for a moment, his mouth opening in puzzlement.

“Please, you think I _care_ about those guys? Screw the Shimizu! My business goes _way_ beyond them! Their business, their people, _everything_! Even their stupid excuse for a turf war!”

Tomauchi mechanically hummed in frustration, his mouth closing.

“Still, if it’s a fight you want…”

Naokuu raised his left hand, slowly balling into a fist with the thumb sticking out. He stopped when his forearm was a few notches above horizontal, the thumb pointing to the right. But not a second later, he thrust his arm towards himself, pivoting to the right on his elbow. His thumb slammed against his chest, square in the center of the 十 character. He glared at Tomauchi, his resolve as intense as it’s ever been, his teeth clenched as his lips curved into a borderline manic smile.

“…then I’d be more than happy to _give_ you one!”

His target’s enthusiastic response to his foreboding words roused no external reaction from Tomauchi. He simply looked down at him with the same monotone expression since his arrival, and possibly the initial upgrade to his present form. Silent for a moment, and then, he supplied his response.

“VERY WELL.”

He raised his right arm and pointed it at Naokuu. The port built into his curled index and middle fingers remained exposed, a sign he was already planning on firing the second round eventually. Shortly after raising it, the remaining black cylinder inside the furthest clear shell from his shoulder disappeared, leaving its former housing completely empty. Not a second later, his right eye glowed brighter under the visor, the whirring intensifying even more. At the same time, the blue lightning accompanying the charge for the first shock appeared again, crackling around Tomauchi’s readied fist. The second round’s discharge was imminent.

Naokuu pulled his hand back from his chest and held both arms out to either side, prepared to take the shot. Not so much in acceptance, though, as it was preparation to counter. His grin faded, Shin, meanwhile, wiped away his tears on his sleeve, lowering his arm before taking a deep breath. As he did, he took a step back towards the nearby mouth of an intersecting alley.

The glow got brighter, the whirring more raucous, and the miniature lightning of charge continuing to crackle. It was time.

“THEN DIE.”

The lightning stopped its dance, shrinking into a flash within the internal barrel, and then exploded with a thud. The impact round started to leave the chamber, headed straight for Naokuu.

“Now!”

He used the brief period of time between the round’s launch and its impact to shout those words to Shin, announced in a commanding tone, yet with the briefest hint of concern. That didn’t mean much, though, when the impact round made contact with its target.

Tomauchi stood as still as he did when he fired the first shot, as the second sent up a large cloud of dust and asphalt debris, this one large enough to encompass the alley entrance and the buildings to either side. The tan particulate cloak four stories in height covered everything in his vision, preventing him from seeing what transpired at the point of impact.

Inside their apartment hideout, the Kunoichi heard the sound of the strike through their paneless window, clear as day. Nawa’s expression, as it had been all morning, was minimal, taking the form of a pair of closed eyes that refrained from opening. Tazuna looked up, unsurprised at the blast but bearing enough bother to put effort into her reaction. “Looks like it started again.” Fuji just whimpered again, clenching her eyes further shut as she held close to her ponytailed teammate.

In the dense collection of buildings and narrow alleys surrounding the Rabaraki Complex property, Shin was already on the move. The passage he darted into was a straightaway running parallel to the northernmost boundary with no twists or turns like the excuses for straightaways closer to the edges of Yoyogi proper, making it perfect for a dash. He passed intersections with alleys leading south, the overwhelming majority of them narrower than the one he came from, and all of them with the white glow of the outside world indicating their presence. He dashed forward, one foot in front of the other with alternating arms coming up, with a sure goal in mind, but even so, he couldn’t help but glance back with a slight turn of the head, a lingering sense of worry in his eyes and exhaled breaths. Still, he had no time to dwell on the possibility of what he was running from in the most technical sense of the word. He clenched his eyes shut, letting out a soft grunt of pain from having to shut out those thoughts, and resumed running, eyes forward.

The giant dust cloud lingered in the moments following impact, the particles drifting away slowly but surely, littering the light-soaked air. It thinned enough to the point that, though obscuring their features, the shadows of individuals hidden behind the cloud could be seen. Seconds passed, and one appeared, eventually emerging.

Naokuu.

Running forward in the same style as Shin, he inhaled and exhaled through his mouth with each stride, moving past the ruined asphalt perimeter and onto the dirt buffer. The trench formed by the first impact round disheveled it enough to ruin its flat plane, but it remained easy to tread on regardless. He took a couple more strides into the buffer, but eventually slowed down as he turned to the right mid-movement, facing a shadow in the expanding dust cloud that provided a darker backdrop for his silhouette.

A metallic thud came from within the cloud, and soon it burst apart, pierced through by another impact round, aimed directly at him like the previous one. Time slowed for Naokuu in that instant he saw it, and after giving it a serious look, as if he knew what his fate was going to be were he hanging there in real time, he grinned in satisfaction, definitely knowing what he had to do next.

So he jumped, moving out of the path of the impact round the moment it hit the ground. Just as quickly as he leaped, he emerged from the cloud of dust and natural debris kicked up in the aftermath, placing his foot on top of the round’s rear edge for just a moment. He leaped off from that brief landing point again, sending him higher and soaring further towards Tomauchi, whose arm remained in firing position. He glided over the massive clenched fist and soon made landing again, this time on the empty impact round storage cylinder attached to his wrist. It was then that he started running at Tomauchi along his arm, moving across each cylinder from the empty first to the half-empty second to the full that followed. Tomauchi took notice and reached across his chest with his left arm, trying to grab Naokuu or at least push him off. Naokuu jumped off the path of cylinders before Tomauchi’s fingers could so much as reach him, launching himself further forward. Tomauchi had only a second to open his mouth in what little reaction he could physically muster, as Naokuu made contact with the midpoint of his visor, forcing him to grunt in reaction and shift his position. His right arm rose up as he turned around to the right in a stumbling motion, less out of actual injury and more the result of being caught off-guard by the detective’s actions. By the time he started to make that reaction, Naokuu leaped off his visor and into the air, going several stories up into the air, almost matching the Rabaraki Complex in height. He spun around in his elevated form, eventually adjusting to an upright position with arms spread out and jacket blowing in the wind once he reached his peak. He looked down at Tomauchi, his grin wider and cockier than before.

Tomauchi growled as he looked up at Naokuu, the red glow of his right eye bright and the blue lightning waves crackling around his fingers persistent. Speedily, he raised his right arm and fired the next impact round, drilling through the air and up towards the detective. Naokuu then began his descent with a dodge of the round, swirling to the right as he narrowly dodged the speeding puck. As he sped up the further he fell, his grin widened just a little more as he prepped his left arm for impact against the ground, pulled back with an open palm.

He didn’t make it to the ground, though. Tomauchi caught him by one of his legs as he passed him on descent. After grabbing Naokuu, he lowered his right arm as he raised his left by a few feet. Then, he jerked his arm to the left and let go of Naokuu, tossing him behind and sending him flying in close contact to the walls of the Complex. It caught him off-guard for sure, especially as he spun around in disorientation from the toss, but as before, the detective turned his situation around. Upon reaching the second floor in the descent accompanying Tomauchi’s throw, he pressed his right hand against the white steel surface of the Complex, at which point he leveled himself once again. As soon as he returned to his desired position, he let go of the Complex wall after a brief moment of sliding his palm across and grinned once again, bringing his legs forward in preparation for impact with the ground.

Foot by foot, meter by meter, his sneaker-clad left shoe came closer and closer to the dirt buffer past the northeast corner of the Complex. And eventually, it made contact for another brief period. He started running across the ground at that opportunity, veering to the left until that was the direction in which he was headed. Speeding across the buffer, he looked across at Tomauchi, still in front of the Complex corner where they began their tussle. The giant had turned back around to his previous position and raised his arm once again, with the red glow and blue discharge of foreboding. Naokuu grunted in amusement, his grin morphing into a definite smirk as he reached across and grabbed his pistol from his holster, still running.

Within seconds, accompanied by another flash, Tomauchi fired the next impact round. As it came barreling towards him, Naokuu took a sharp left turn and moved diagonally back towards Tomauchi, ducking briefly in case he failed to get out of the round’s range in time. Though barely, the round whizzed right by him, blasting into the ground and bringing up another dense cloud of dust. Naokuu continued on, rushing at Tomauchi with gun in hand and no intention to back down. In what felt like little time at all, he reached Tomauchi, slowly approaching him following the shot, as well as the third impact round he fired, sticking out of the ground at a slight tilt. Naokuu jumped onto the discarded round for a brief moment, and then leaped back off, sliding forward with crouched knees against the ground as he went under Tomauchi’s legs. In the brief moment he passed under the behemoth’s shadow, he flipped around, still sliding backwards but with his legs spread. He remained low until he cleared the legs, raising his upper body to its natural state and finally pointing his gun at Tomauchi. He pulled the trigger of the P250 without hesitation, and did so multiple times. Firing the remaining five bullets he had in his current cartridge brought Naokuu a feeling of enthusiastic elation, despite the minimal effect the full-size pistol’s .45 ACP rounds had on Tomauchi’s mechanical figure.

Undeterred, yet understandably angered, Tomauchi turned around as Naokuu emptied his magazine and pointed his arm at him again. His red eye was already glowing, and the streams of sparks from the barrel in his fingers were in full effect, and in tune, another flash and the ejection of the next impact round followed. Naokuu immediately ground to a halt, his sneakers kicking up small clouds of dust and the empty cartridge dropping to the ground before the former followed it with larger puffs, taking off again in the forward direction. Veering to the left, he dodged the impact round without effort, ignoring it as it blasted into the building directly behind him, the ensuing dust cloud dark with debris. In favor of paying it undue attention, he unzipped the duffel bag slung over his shoulder, zipper facing forward, with his left hand while the right remained gripping his P250, quickly fishing for another 10-round cartridge. The moment he felt it in his hands, he whipped it out and loaded it into the bottom of the grip. As Naokuu resumed forward, pulling back the slide in further prep, something fell to the ground with a large crash behind him. The impact round Tomauchi fired up at him moments ago, finally returning down but beyond all manner of concern for either Naokuu or Tomauchi.

With Naokuu’s course having shifted into a veer towards him, with the Rabaraki Complex to his back, Tomauchi scowled, the frown small but effortful, as he pointed his arm, the knuckle barrel once again crackling, directly at the ground in front of him. The impact round exited with a flash as before, cracking apart the exposed earth surrounding it into a cubic pattern. It was a brief detail for either of them to note, as yet another dirt cloud blasted up from the fractured earth, creating a smokescreen in the last stretch Naokuu had to make before reaching Tomauchi, with no way for them to see one another.

Or so Tomauchi thought. Moments after the cloud emerged, it started to dissipate to the point of mild visibility, as to be expected from a blast without flame or debris to prolong the obscurity. As that period took form, a pair of legs approached the edge of the impact round’s immediate strike zone, standing atop some of the ground bunched up around the embedded puck. Just as some of the dirt tumbled down the slope back to what level ground remained, the cloud dissipated further as Naokuu stared up at Tomauchi, who stood and looked back with his unglowing left eye and still-glowing right. His mouth was still curled in anger, though his lip was slightly raised in dumbfoundedness. After looking up at him with a mild glare and grin, he closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, chuckling in amusement, perhaps at having lived this long against the behemoth. But whatever his motivations for the laugh, Naokuu opened his eyes and turned his head back, his glare more intense and his grin resuming his enthusiasm to partake in the battle to begin with. And in that same moment, he pointed his gun at Tomauchi and, without even the briefest of pauses, fired.

Looking straight ahead or at any angle from below, the ensuing battle between Naokuu and Tomauchi, from what already happened to what presently unfolded, couldn’t be observed from the 11th floor of the Complex. All that anyone settling for such a simplistic vantage point had to go off of was sound. The only way anyone at that level could observe what was going on, besides being on the right side to see it, would be to approach the windows past which the battle happened and looked down. The former, an action which Tazuna decided to take.

“Damn,” the ponytailed kunoichi sighed, moving to the window of her trio’s hideout with a slight strut, her left hand on her hip and her right by her side. “They’re really causing a commotion out there…”

“Ahh! Tazuna, what are you _doing_!?” Fuji exclaimed in still-lingering fearful concern as she ran up to her teammate, having finally settled by the window. “What happened to staying in the shadows while that _thing_ is still out there!?”

“Re-_lax_, we’re perfectly safe where we are now. Besides, I wanna watch the fight, see how your policeman friend’s holding up against that behemoth.”

Fuji turned and joined Tazuna and looking down at the battle, moaning softly in worry, though not so much that it could be considered a whimper.

Back outside, the most recent of Naokuu’s approaches towards Tomauchi had him going for his left arm, primarily the hand that he only occasionally used compared to the other. Whatever he was attempting, Tomauchi countered it by throwing him off, flicking his hand forward and sending the former policeman far backwards, and also upwards. In spite of his speed, Naokuu braked himself as he came up against the corner of a building lining the outer edge of the property buffer, the soles of his sneakers angled and pressing against the right angle on the top half of the parapet. He looked down at Tomauchi as the giant pointed his right arm at him again, the barrel in his knuckles once again crackling with blue electric streams. As if on cue, with the obligatory flash, another impact round came barreling at him, leaving a trail of residual sparks in its wake.

With a brief yet rough push against the parapet, Naokuu launched himself forward, speeding past the impact round without even bothering to watch for it. The oversized bullet didn’t so much as graze him, leaving the smirking target behind as it hit the building corner where he once was, destroying the top two floors in a burst of dust and debris, with a brief puff of black smoke mixed in. After another moment of speeding through the air, Naokuu’s grin widened and he thrust himself upwards, legs spread and arms raised while bent at the elbow. In that moment, he passed over Tomauchi’s shoulder, prompting him to turn back and look.

Upon reaching ground level, in a part of the western quarter of the buffer untouched by damage from the impact rounds, Naokuu crouched down for a landing, left hand pressing against the ground. That soon changed; both Naokuu’s position and the state of the buffer. Naokuu jumped up and shifted to the right with a swift jerk, turning around in midair. Shortly after take-off, another impact round struck the ground to what was now his new right, breaking apart the earth and sending up dust in its wake. In the aftermath of the blast, Naokuu was forced to travel further, faster to the left, but all he could do was smile. Snickering in amusement at how close Tomauchi came to hitting him, he raised his right hand, holding the reloaded handgun, and started firing at the giant once again. None of the bullets had much of an effect, but Naokuu didn’t care; he just continued to shoot until the 10-round magazine was empty.

Corresponding with the miniscule effect Naokuu’s ammo had on him, Tomauchi stepped forward with his right foot and charged up another round, the whirring from his glowing red eye loud enough to hear from the range he determined. Once it charged enough, he fired once more, the impact round piercing the air as it rushed towards Naokuu. But as before, he didn’t miss a beat. He thrust himself down back to ground level, ducking for good measure, as the round traveled over him, striking the building to his back. What’s more, he started dashing towards Tomauchi once the impact round was past. As he ran, he unloaded his gun of the empty cartridge and switched the firearm to his left hand, reaching up to grab another set of rounds from inside the duffel bag. And while doing all that, he veered to the right, away from Tomauchi.

And towards the impact round that fell from the sky. He leaped onto it as he unveiled the cartridge from its storage, leaping across the air towards Tomauchi as he reloaded it into the bottom of the gun. Before long, he made landing; not on the ground, but on another impact round; the first one fired at him after he ran into the buffer zone. He leaped off of that, but instead of going far, he curved to the right, turning around to face Tomauchi, who turned to look at him as he moved across. Naokuu raised his gun and fired the rounds from the reloaded gun at Tomauchi, once again not caring what minimal damage they would have on his scaled-up humanoid chassis. Unlike before, he was in the low tens of meters away from Tomauchi, so he could actually see the bullets hit and deflect, unlike before where he was practically guessing where they’d end up.

Tomauchi grunted through his naturally clenched teeth and made his move. But not from the right arm. With the five cylindrical shells along his forearm empty of any impact rounds waiting to be fired, he had only half of his ammo left. He took a different approach, raising his left arm and bringing it down with a great thrust, palm facing the ground, and facing Naokuu. As swiftly as the cyborg could make it, the palm smacked against Naokuu and hit the ground, his handprint pushing into the earth as more dust and debris was knocked up around the periphery. Enough that it took a few seconds for him and what few spectators there were to see the end result.

That result being Naokuu’s survival. He now stood atop Tomauchi’s hand, his left foot on his index knuckle and his right on his ring knuckle. He gasped for breath as he looked forward at him, the grin persisting on his visage indicating that his recollection was out of anything but desperation and exhaustion.

“Oh wow,” Tazuna calmly exclaimed, “He’s faring better than I thought he would.”

“See?” Fuji said, gripping the windowsill as she leaned forward. “I _told_ you he was strong!”

Tazuna grunted in a smug manner of harrumph, closing her eyes and crossing her arms. “He may _be_, but even then, he’s no match compared to _us_.”

Fuji turned back to Tazuna. “I dunno. If he’s a match for that giant guy, wouldn’t he be _more_ than a match for us?”

“Don’t ruin this for me, Fuji.”

“S-Sorry, Tazuna.”

As her two subordinates bantered about the duel outside, Nawa got up from her seat for the first time since daybreak and approached the window as well. Standing off to the side behind and between Tazuna and Fuji, part of her remaining in the shadows, she turned and looked out the window at the resuming fight. Her right hand was situated under her left elbow while her left hand hung slightly over the right elbow in an elegant crossing of arms as she watched with a typical half-lidded gaze. She retained that position for a while, but after a moment, she squinted, her mask hiding any further expression but the words from underneath telling all.

“Something’s _off_.”

********

One of the multiple doors making up the southern entrance to the Rabaraki Complex slammed open, too easily for a transparent door with a push-bar to normally be capable of. The lack of a door closer at the top of the structure kept it aside longer than normal as well. As the pathway past the rectangular vestibule laid open, the person responsible for pushing the commonplace obstacle to the side rushed in, slowing to a stop several feet into the building’s lobby. But even then, Shin didn’t have the time to bend over and catch his breath. He turned to the left for a moment, and then forward, in search of something.

“Okay, the stairs have gotta be here _somewhere_…”

The lobby was dark, the only sources of light being backlighting from the windows lining either vestibule, which themselves gave view to the outside world. The dust from the battle in front made the light past the northern vestibule much dimmer than that from the south, but Shin’s concern lied elsewhere. He looked past the information desk and unused couches occupying the space between the two broad ends of the building, his vision darting around the vestibule at the other end. After some frantic looks, his gaze eventually settled on the portion of wall bisecting the vestibule windows. In that wall was a single door with a vertical rectangular window on the left side, a faint yet obvious glimmer of light encompassing the shape.

“Found ‘em!” Shin exclaimed with a grin as he took off, rushing across the lobby to the door.

Without pause or even the slightest hesitation, Shin grabbed the handle of the stairwell door and pulled it open, flooding his vision with a technically brighter sight. The middle portion of each flight from floor to floor had a window, the same shape but a larger size than the one for the door, to the outside, letting the light from the morning sky flood in and paint the white stairwell in its most natural colors. With his sights confirmed, Shin started running up the first set of stairs. Thrusting one arm in front of the other, he climbed the stairs two steps at a time, before long reaching the mid-level landing. The odd number of stairs almost made him trip, but he kept his balance while stumbling forward, at the same time turning to the left with his own sneakers skidding across the vinyl surface. Once he made the turn, he leveled himself out and dashed forward, pushing his right hand against the opposite wall before running up the second flight in the same manner as the first. With each stride, he inhaled and exhaled, catching his breath while giving himself more of a reason to later.

Unlike at the end of the first flight, he kept his balance at the top of the second, partly due to switching from two steps at a time to one part-way. He pressed his front soles against the vinyl surface of the second floor entrance and turned, his shirt fluttering up in that brief moment. The bottom edge pulled away from his torso only for a second, and in that second, the holster housing Naokuu’s P220 he fitted on his belt that morning was exposed in full. In time, that moment ran out, the shirt falling back to its natural state and covering up the belt loops and gun handle as Shin dashed off towards the next flight.

********

Meanwhile, in the makeshift battlefield the northern buffer had become in the past several minutes, Naokuu and Tomauchi finished up their most recent close-contact clash. The former leaped backward off of the latter’s left forearm, held across his chest. As Tomauchi lowered the arm now free of his target, Naokuu landed fifty feet back or whereabouts, crouched down with legs spread and right hand grazing the disheveled dirt surface. With a brief flash of a widened grin, he raised himself up and spoke for the first time since the fight began.

“Come _on_! Is that all you _got_!? You’ve wasted half your ammo on me and I’m _still_ not dead! Where’s that resolve you showed me earlier, big man?”

As he ranted at Tomauchi, he raised his head and brought it down in a show of emphasis, moving it multiple times and with the same wide and manic grin as before. Near the end, he raised his right hand, once more free of his gun, and pointed it at Tomauchi, to further drive home his taunt.

“DO NOT BE MISTAKEN,” Tomauchi droned in response, one of the two impact rounds inside the furthest full cylinder from his shoulder disappearing as he raised his arm and pointed it at Naokuu. “NO MATTER YOUR ADVANTAGE, I WILL FULFILL MY OBJECTIVE…” His right eye resumed glowing and whirring, the visible charge sparking around his knuckle-contained barrel. “…AND KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND.”

“Oh yeah!? Well go ahead and _try_, I can keep this up all _day_!” Naokuu raised his arms above his head and brought them down in tandem, pointing his reloaded P250 at Tomauchi while continuing to shoot him his unfazed, excited smile.

“They’re about to face off again!” Fuji shouted, leaning a little more out the window in excitement.

Tazuna nodded in agreement, grunting softly. “And their poses… It’s almost like something out of a movie.”

“For sure!”

For sure indeed, the with-distance standoff between Naokuu and Tomauchi had a degree of cinema to it, if only in the tension it exuded from all three sides of the encounter.

Opponent one, Tomauchi. He remained still, the lightning-like charge for the next impact round increasing in size as his right eye reached a nearly blinding level of glow.

Opponent two, Naokuu. Standing in place, but with a little more motion. His feet pushed against the earth and his sneer at the behemoth widened, patiently waiting for his move so he could make his own.

The spectators, the Kinky Kunoichi. Tazuna’s right hand pressed against the side of the window as she leaned out, eyes widening in anticipation for how the shot would play out. Fuji kept herself from leaning out the window to potentially dangerous levels, but her eyes widened as well in excitement of what would happen. Nawa remained in place, watching without any words beyond her earlier notation of Shin’s absence.

With opponent one pushed past the corner of the Complex, opponent two in front of the portion adjacent to the northern façade’s edge, and the spectators watching from above the gap between, the stage was set for what remained of the battle, the length in which that would take no factor at all.

“_Hang on, Muchise,_” Shin thought to himself as he kept speeding up the front stairwell, ignorant to the finer details of what took place outside. “_I’m coming!_”

Before long, the shots were fired. The blast of the impact round drowned out any semblance of noise from Naokuu’s gun, especially when both noises were muted to a non-ear-splitting level through the Complex walls. Only the parties involved knew what happened. Shin knew nothing beyond the noise, continuing his run to the eleventh floor. At the exact moment of the resuming blast, he passed a sign by the door leading out to the level he reached in that moment. A white, almost square sign to the left, bearing nothing more, nothing less, than a black number 4.

********

Once. Twice. The business phone on the desk, messy with paperwork partially held in place by an ashtray housing a used cigar and a pile of cinders, rang throughout the dark office, lit only by what rays seeped in through the closed venetian blinds behind the owner. The phone didn’t ring a third time. The receiver grabbed the handset and held it to his ear, the coil cord connecting it to the system lightly swinging back and forth.

“What is it?”

“Chief Gojiki. It’s me.”

Gojiki grinned at the familiar voice, in a manner befitting a man of his twisted and morally dubious character.

“Hn. It’s been a while. So have the Shimizu finally fallen?”

“Negative, sir. In fact, it’s something bigger than that.”

“Huh?” Gojiki’s grin faded, his free hand retrieving his cigar from the ashtray. “What on earth could be _possibly_ be bigger?” His lips closed around the stogie and he blew against the end.

“It’s Tanoshiba, sir. He’s in Yoyogi.”

Gojiki perked up as much as a man like him could at the news. His eyes widened, opening only an extra couple of millimeters, and with a soft grunt against the foot, his cigar came loose from his mouth, the smoke exiting prematurely. Within moments, his eyes returned to their previous state of openness, his eyebrow raising in the meantime.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive, sir,” the speaker on the other end responded.

It was the man from earlier, who followed Naokuu and Shin by rooftop after their battle and retreat from Komori and the attack forces. He sat on the roof of one of the still-intact buildings along the northern border around the Rabaraki Complex property, a black flip-phone held against his ear, his back against the parapet, and his head turned to look at what happened beyond and below, as subtly as possible.

“He came in over half an hour ago and already he’s taken out a bunch of the Shimizu’s men. Not only that, now he’s engaged in battle with their ‘secret weapon’ I told you about.”

In line with his statement, Naokuu’s battle with Tomauchi continued in the buffer between the Complex and the rest of Yoyogi. Tomauchi stood in the same position as before, facing his opponent as he fired another impact round at him. His arm recoiled, and the giant iron slug fired with great speed from his digits as the residual lightning from the preliminary charge crackled around his hand, as it had many times before. But, as far as the man on the roof could tell from his struggling perspective, Tomauchi missed, as he moved to fire the next shot. He lifted up his left foot and pivoted on his right, turning to the left as he charged another shot inside the exposed portions of his index and middle digits.

At that point, the man turned his head back after catching his glimpse of the battle. “I hate to say it, sir, but he’s gone full vigilante on us.”

Gojiki’s mildly disbelieving expression stood for another moment more, before fading and replacing itself with a pleased grin, coupled with an equally satisfied grunt.

“Hn. Thanks for the tip. I’ll take it from here.”

Without giving his undercover subordinate the chance to see him off in turn, Gojiki slammed the receiver against the phone, ending the call with a literal thud. Almost immediately after, his hand traveled to one of the buttons grouped to the lower right of the handset. He pressed one and held it down, inhaled for a brief moment, and then…

“All right, men, listen up! We have a rogue officer causing trouble in Yoyogi right as we speak! All on-duty personnel in the Investigative Division are to suit up and meet me in the central garage in ten minutes! We roll out immediately! Repeat: we roll out _immediately_!”

The loud and booming sound of Gojiki’s spitting voice resonated throughout the speakers placed around the many floors of the Shibuya Police Building. The circular ceiling-mounted speakers blasted his words throughout all relevant areas of the structure, to those under his direct jurisdiction that were there to hear them.

The main Investigative Division working space. A four-by-four array of large desks, much larger than those in the Documentation Department on the sixth floor. Instead of housing one employee each, it granted enough space for two or three at once. Each desk housed two to three computer monitors each, alongside phone setups, desk lamps, jars of writing utensils, picture frames, staplers, miniature bookshelves, wire file baskets, and paperwork stacks of varying sizes. Of the desks in that main space, about half of them were occupied. Officers and investigators dressed in suits of various jacket and trouser colors within the range of brown, black and blue were at the desks, some of them standing while most were sitting in their wheeled office chairs. They looked up, looked back, turned fully around, or stared straight forward. Regardless, all eyes were on the speakers.

The in-house cafeteria was the same way. Many officers, both dressed in uniform and wearing more business-oriented attire, were seated or walking to the tables housing said seats, almost all of them holding onto or with a cup of coffee adjacent. Some had foodstuffs on them, donuts being the popular choice by far. But even they were either half-finished in hand or uneaten on paper plates as their consumers, alongside those with just coffee as their morning kickstart, listened to Gojiki’s announcement through the ceiling speakers, regardless of whether or not they were among the addressed.

Even those at neither their desks nor the dining hall caught wind of the announcement. Azaguro and Natsutaka were among those in that category. The two of them were walking down the sixth floor hallway by the windows, stopping in place and looking up as they listened to the tail end of the announcement. Azaguro, dressed in his gray suit, unbuttoned as usual, with a solid goldenrod tie, looked up with his mouth slightly ajar in what appeared to be realization. Natsutaka, in his navy blue suit with a dark red tie, on the other hand, looked up with his usual serious face.

“That’s all,” Gojiki finished as he pulled his hand away from the phone, ending his statement. He then pushed his hand against the desk as he lifted himself out of his chair.

Upon rising from his seat, Gojiki began to snicker. His suppressed yet obvious laugh was a sinister one, heard only by his two lackeys, who have returned to standing behind his desk in their attentive, unmoving positions following their failure to keep their target in check. A failure that Gojiki no longer cared about.

“Oh, Tanoshiba…” He set his cigar down in the ashtray once more, bringing his right hand to join the other in pressing against the desk, even after completing his transition from sitting to standing. “Even with your spirit broken…”

He opened his eyes and glared forward, connivingly.

“You never change.”

********

Yokoshima sighed as he pulled open the door separating the short hallway housing the courtyard exit from the stairwell, which itself acted as a barrier to the first floor interior hallway. Dressed in his usual brown suit and solid dark blue tie, he looked down at the loop carpet tile floor with closed eyes and let out a slight bemoan.

“I swear, this city’s traffic makes no sense… huh?”

As he looked up in the middle of his non-sequitur complaint, he blinked some at the sight that laid before him on the other side of the door.

Several suited officers, one after the other, jogging down the stairwell in a single-line formation. Upon reaching the end of the stairs, they turned around and headed for the door heading into the true building proper, swinging almost shut with each pass only to be pushed open with the next arrival. Each officer left a fair amount of space between one another, but the number of them coming down still left the veteran detective in surprise.

“What the…”

Among the group of officers heading down the stairs, near the back half of the group, was Azaguro, keeping up the same motions as his co-workers in front of and behind him. He was as focused on getting to the central garage, if not the locker rooms first, as the rest, but unlike them, he was still susceptible to the briefest of delays.

“Hey, Azaguro.”

Yokoshima’s words made Azaguro gasp softly and stop, just as he reached the end of the stairs and started making the left turn around.

“You mind explaining what’s going on here?”

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Azaguro asked as he turned to face Yokoshima, standing upright and lowering his arms from their jogging position. “Chief Gojiki gave all us early birds an order. We’re heading out to raid Yoyogi.”

“R-R-Raid Yoyogi!?” Yokoshima backed up one step in shock, his grip on the door starting to loosen but remaining steady. “For what reason?”

“It’s just a rumor right now, but… he says we’ll be arresting Tanoshiba.”

The cutting nonchalance of Azaguro’s words left Yokoshima speechless, both practically and near-literally. He gasped sharply, his eyes widening behind and beyond his glasses, his body frozen as he processed what he had just heard. While in the throes of catatonia, the door behind him slammed shut through the efforts of nothing more than the door closer installed into the top sill of the frame. He was left to watch Azaguro join the remaining officers in their continued jog to their destination, finally at the end, through the transparent panels that made up the body of the door. After standing there for another few seconds, he lowered his head, his eyes naturally receding from their widened state as they, and his lip, started to tremble.

“Naokuu…”

Alone he stood in the back hallway, inches away from the door in as the rays of the morning sun shone through the windows of the door out, bathing half of the corridor in a yellow-white glow while he remained in the shade.

“What have you gotten yourself _into_?”


End file.
